


The Eyes of a Child.

by Morgana_avalon



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 10:22:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 185,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18386522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana_avalon/pseuds/Morgana_avalon
Summary: Remy is living on the streets of New Orleans until he meets Jean-Luc LeBeau and his life changes drastically. Many thanks to Mems for beta reading the parts!





	1. The Eyes of a Child.

Please read this warning carefully and then decide wether or not to read "Eyes of a child".

 

In this story I describe Remy's childhood in an Alternate Universe. Remy escapes from the Antiquary, but ends up on the streets of New Orleans where he has to survive on his own. He doesn't have any real friends and is forced to sell his body to stay alive. Remy is a nine year hustler in this story and the sexual acts are described in a graphic manner. There is even one scene in which Remy faces rape. 

 

Bye

Prologue

 

 

1976, New Orleans.

 

"I succeeded at last!" The doctor's triumphant cry echoed through the room, overpowering everything, even the newborn's frightened cries and sobs. Roughly, he pushed the baby's eyelids further apart and grinned. "Red on black..."

 

"Please... doctor... Doctor Essex, please give me my child!" Exhausted, the mother tried to struggle upright, but she was bleeding internally, slowly bleeding to death. The need to hold her baby overwhelmed her and she didn't even wonder why her doctor wasn't taking care of her.

 

"He's mine now," Essex spat, impatiently. "I have no more need for you." While holding the baby in his left hand, he placed his right on her throat and his fingers began to squeeze the life out of her. "Puny humans... you die so easily."

 

While watching the life flee her body, he rocked the baby, trying to calm him down. The baby's screams would surely attract unwanted attention. "You belong to me," he whispered, cocking his head to study the baby. The mother's chest rose one more time, then collapsed in death. "You're mine."

 

"Doctor Essex?" Several voices sounded from the other side of the door and Essex acted quickly. He placed the baby on the bed next to his mother and pretended to be performing CPR when the medical team crashed into the room.

 

"It's too late. She's dead, but the baby seems healthy." Essex quickly cradled the baby in his arms. "You take care of her remains and I'll run some tests on the baby to make sure there are no complications." Ignoring the medical staff, he left the room, carrying the baby with him.

 

His eyes flashed red, briefly, then turned human again. Soon, soon the baby would be in his laboratory and he could conduct every experiment he'd ever wanted to!

 

The baby cried again and tears dripped down his face as if mourning his mother's death.

 

///

 

"We must carry out de Antiquary's orders, Jean-Luc. If he wants de chile, let him have it! It's an abomination!"

 

Jean-Luc felt used and angry. The Antiquary had miraculously appeared in his home and demanded he steal a child and bring the baby to him. The Antiquary had even given him the address and the room number!

 

"Somet'in' feels wrong, Etienne. It feels wrong to condemn anot'er chile to de Velvet Ministry. We don' know what he does to dem, mais..." He had visited the Antiquary’s home a few times and the children there had reminded him of the living dead. Their eyes were vacant and their voices flat.

 

"He protects de T'ieves Guild, Jean-Luc! Wit'out him, de Assassins would have seized control a long time ago. We need him!" Etienne followed Jean-Luc, as the master thief led him through the hospital corridors. "De chile ain' even human!"

 

Jean-Luc cursed privately. The Antiquary had told them that the baby had red on black eyes and that it was the Devil's mark on him so the old man wanted the child for his collection. "Etienne, he's only a bébé! What 'bout de mère?"

 

"Dat ain' our problem, Jean-Luc." Etienne halted in front of room 414. "Dis is it. De chile should be in here."

Jean-Luc opened the door and soundlessly slipped inside. Looking at the crib, he saw a small baby, far too small and he pushed back part of the blanket to reveal the baby's face. A divine smile greeted him and then the large eyes opened. He'd always been a sucker for big baby eyes, except... these were red on black. "Mon Dieu, it's true."

 

Looking closer he saw tear tracks down the baby's face. "He's been cryin'." Unable to control his instincts, he reached out and touched the baby's face, caressing it gently. Picking him up, he cradled the boy against his chest, rocking it.

 

"Jean-Luc, we need to leave! I hear footsteps closin' in on us." Etienne opened the window, swung a rope to the opposite roof and returned to Jean-Luc. "We got to go... now!"

 

"De Devil's eyes and an angel's smile... Etienne, we can' give him to de Antiquary!"

 

"We must!" Etienne pushed his friend toward the window. "Hurry!"

 

Jean-Luc looked back at the crib, and wished he could put the baby back. "He should be wit' his mère..." But Etienne jolted him into action and he followed his fellow thief to the opposite roof.

 

The baby began to cry softly and the tiny hands blindly reached for him. Jean-Luc fought back a tear. How can I justify handin' you over to de Antiquary? He'll ruin your life, petit, mais I don' have a choice. He offered the baby his left thumb and the child suckled on it. The smile returned to the boy's face and the alien eyes seemed to flare with comfort. I'm sorry, petit. I wish dere was anot'er way...

 

While maintaining a tight hold on the baby boy, he threw back his head. Heavy rain began to fall and it was almost like the heavens shed the tears he couldn't cry.

 

///

 

The Antiquary held his breath, delighted that Jean-Luc LeBeau had carried out his orders and had brought him the child. The two thieves now stood in front of him and Jean-Luc was clutching the baby protectively. "Give him to me," he whispered, slowly.

 

Jean-Luc shivered, hearing the old man's tone and reluctantly placed the baby in the Antiquary's arms.

 

"Blanc, you will paint me, paint me while I'm holding the chile in my arms!" The Antiquary posed while his assistant, a young man called Blanc, began sketching.

 

"Monsieur, de chile is wet and cold... mebbe he needs some milk, non?" Jean-Luc had found some blood on the baby's body while carrying him and had realized with a shock that he was truly carrying a newborn. The baby was only a few hours old!

 

"Later!" The Antiquary straightened his back and threw back his head in glorious victory. "De chile is mine and I decide what he needs and doesn't!"

 

The baby began to scream and his head lolled against the old man's chest. The tiny body was shivering and Jean-Luc's hands turned into fists. Why? Why does he want dis chile so bad? Why dis one?

 

"Because he's special, Jean-Luc," the Antiquary whispered, contently. "Dis

newborn is more powerful dan you and I will ever be. He will keep me alive, sustain me..."

 

Puzzled, Jean-Luc tried to make sense of the old man's last remark, but failed. "Respectfully Antiquary, mais de bébé needs...."

 

"Rien!" The Antiquary sneered. "You bore me to death, LeBeau, leave me!"

Etienne trembled, feeling the old man's power. "Jean-Luc, let's go. We did our job; we did well. We can go home to our families now."

 

Jean-Luc felt paralyzed as Etienne pulled him toward the doorway. The baby boy was crying again and the cries made him flinch. I can' leave him here!

 

Suddenly, he was standing in the corridor and the door behind him slammed shut, jolting him from his thoughts and back to reality. I left him dere! I left him dere! I should have opposed de old man! I should have...

 

"Jean-Luc? Let's go home. I'm sure Henri will want to see his père and Claire is waiting for her husband to join dem for dinner. You have a family to go home to. Forget 'bout de abomination. De Antiquary will protect de Guild from de Devil's spawn." Etienne smiled and pushed Jean-Luc toward the front door.

 

Jean-Luc was tempted to run back, snatch the baby from the monster's arms, but knew his attempt to save the child would be useless. The Antiquary would never let go of his possessions. I'll come back and help you escape, I promise, petit.

 

Determined to help the boy, Jean-Luc let Etienne guide him back on to the street. He had to bide his time and wait for the right opportunity to spring the child

 

///

 

"No!" Essex' face contorted with anger at finding the baby gone. "No, it's impossible! I only left the room for five minutes! He can't be gone!" Fed by his anger, the transformation into Sinister started. Cold, red eyes locked on the crib and he could still feel the baby's body heat when he placed his hand inside the crib.

 

"All these years... all this work... the genes, lost... It will take me years, maybe even decades to re-construct his DNA!" Stunned, he looked at the open window. Someone had taken the baby, if only he knew who had dared to cross him. "The gene pool... lost... those precious genes..."

 

Standing tall, he looked out over the city. How hard could it be to find a baby with alien eyes? I'll find you and when I do, I'll never let you out of my laboratory again.

 

End Prologue.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter one

The Antiquary

 

"Come here, Mauve," the Antiquary hissed, selecting one child from the twenty kneeling in front of him. While the chosen child approached, he felt red on black eyes on him, settling on his back. "Don' you dare move, Noir, or you'll pay for your disobedience in ways you can’t imagine."

 

The boy called Mauve hesitantly approached and he smiled, faking his friendliness. "Come here, chile." He'd given them names derived from colors to make sure they never found out their real names. Mauve came to a halt in front of him and he raised his bony hand to caress the boy's beautiful face. "Boticelli might have painted you as one of his divine angels." His fingers tangled in the boy's long hair and he nodded his head, staring into the mauve colored eyes. "You're special too, mon fils."

 

From the corner of his eyes he caught Noir flinch and he picked up anger and fear from the young mutant. The red on black eyes still fascinated him after nine years. "I'll call you to me later, Noir. Now stay on your knees and don' move!"

 

The boy's jaw set firmly, hearing that he was next. Mauve couldn't give the Antiquary the life energy the old man needed, so the Antiquary would call another... and another, until he felt strong again. Noir, he hated his name, hated the impersonal way the old monster treated them. Although it was evening they hadn't had a bite to eat all day and he had been kneeling next to the old man's chair for countless hours.

 

"Rose, Rouge, hold Mauve while I... take care of my needs," the Antiquary ordered and waited for the two older boys to wrap their arms around Mauve. "I'm so hungry, chile... so hungry."

 

Although the Antiquary wanted them to watch, Noir averted his eyes, knowing what would happen from personal experience.

 

The Antiquary placed his hands on both sides of Mauve's head and then pressed his chapped lips against the boy's, instigating a brutal kiss. Mauve struggled, but the hold was too tight and the Antiquary delighted in feeling the boy's fear and panic. His mind shifted, invaded the boy's and he relished the energy and power from the young mutant that would now sustain him. He needed their energy, their power. It was the only way he could exist. If he stopped feeding on them he would be dead within weeks.

 

Noir glanced at them and watched as the white energy rose from Mauve's lips and flowed into the Antiquary's mouth. Mauve was twitching, no longer trying to break free. Rose and Rouge had to support him or he would have fallen. The Antiquary, the leech, was still sucking the life energy from Mauve.

 

And after he finished wit' Mauve it's my turn... He shivered violently, knowing the Antiquary would drain him in a few minutes. If only it didn't hurt so much!

 

"Oui!" The Antiquary cried out in ecstasy, dropping Mauve onto the floor. "Now get me that one," he told the two other boys while pointing at Noir.

 

"Non, m'sieur, please... don' do it. You fed on me only yesterday... I still feel weak. Dere's li'l I can give you!" But his pleas were in vain as Rose and Rouge grabbed him roughly, dragging him to his feet so the Antiquary could easily brush his lips to start the energy transfer. "Please, M'sieur..." he sobbed, trying to mentally prepare himself for the pain, but failing miserably.

 

"Ah, you're très beau, petit... You're the strongest here, Noir... the strongest and the most beau. You'll keep me alive. When you are old and broken, your powers will still ensure my strength. I'll keep you forever..."

 

"Non..." he sobbed, struggling against the hold, but the boys only tightened it. "Please, non..." He tried to back away when the Antiquary leaned in closer, but Rouge cupped the back of his head in his hand and kept him steady. "Non..." The old man's lips brushed his and his body tensed completely, knowing the familiar pain would envelop him within seconds, and yes, it had started already.

 

The Antiquary's mind moved into his, placing itself over his thoughts as a shield, making it impossible for him to think clearly. The old man raced through his thoughts, his dreams, his hopes until he finally arrived at his core. 'Yes...' the Antiquary sighed inside his mind, tapping into his powers and draining him.

 

His breath was coming in spurts and his sight had grown blurry. Rose and Rouge were still holding him up and the Antiquary towered above him, smirking triumphantly. His knees gave out beneath him and he swayed on his feet. Rouge and Rose laid him down on the floor and the old man followed, never letting go of his lips. Please stop, m'sieur, hurts!

 

Be quiet, Noir, I'm not finished yet!

 

Hearing the Antiquary's voice in his mind always scared the hell out of him and he pinched his eyes shut, trying to lock out the pain. But the Antiquary's face stared back at him from within his soul and the pain was building. His bones were turning to jelly, his blood stilled in his veins, his eyes went dry and shriveled... the pain was too much and he passed out.

 

Displeased, the Antiquary released the boy's lips. This one's power was so strong, so young, so vital and it was tempting to feed on him every day, but he had to restrain himself or he'd kill the boy within weeks. "Make sure he rests... And look after Mauve as well," he added, barely acknowledging the two boys. As he sat down on his chair, he felt vibrant and alive.

 

///

 

"Noir? Noir? Can you hear me, mon ami?"

 

The pleading voice finally penetrated the fog surrounding his thoughts and he opened his red on black eyes. "Merde..." he whispered. "Can' move, Mauve."

 

Mauve struggled onto his knees and crawled toward him. "You look sick, Noir. How long did he have you?"

 

"Too long." He tried to shift onto his left side to lessen the nausea that was threatening to overwhelm him. He didn't want to throw up all over himself! "Did dey leave us some water?"

 

Mauve looked about and smiled, seeing a full water bottle. "Oui." He reached for it, uncapped it and helped his friend sit upright. "Take a few sips, leave some for me..."

 

Noir moaned as the cool and comforting liquid flowed down his throat. "He never held on dat long 'fore..." He still felt the old man's presence in his mind, watching him, making him a prisoner in his own mind. It was the worst invasion of his being he'd ever experienced.

 

"Hey, I want more water!" But Mauve was emptying the bottle himself. Being the weaker one he couldn't stop Mauve and told himself to be grateful for the little water Mauve had given him.

 

Lying down again, he tried to make himself as comfortable as possible on the dirty mattress. "How long do you t'ink he will keep us here?" He was scared to close his eyes, scared the Antiquary would suddenly call for him again.

 

Mauve shrugged his shoulders and laid down beside his friend, trying to get as close as possible to soak up Noir's body heat. "A few hours? A few days? He'll let us go once we've got our strength back."

 

"Den we can go back to our beds and get some sleep..."

 

The boys didn't understand why the Antiquary ordered the ones he had fed on to be taken to this basement. It was cold and dark, and the mattress damp and worn.

 

Suddenly the door opened and Rouge stepped inside. The sixteen year old red headed boy shyly entered the basement and put a tray filled with sandwiches and wine in front of them. "He wants you to eat. You can return to your rooms when you can walk on your own." Rouge backed away and locked the door behind him. "I'm sorry... sorry we had to hold you down..." The whispered words drifted through the door and into the basement.

 

How many times had he heard their apologies? Oui, they felt sorry, but they still did what the old monster said! "Mauve! Gimme a sandwich!"

 

"I'm hungry, Noir!" Reluctantly, Mauve handed his friend a sandwich. "You can have de wine, I'll stick to de water."

 

"I don' wanna drink de wine eit'er," Noir whispered; it would make him feel out of control.

 

"Too bad!" Mauve grabbed the water bottle and squeezed the last drops from it.

 

Slowly, Noir reached for the wine and sipped it. It took away his awful thirst and would make him fall asleep again. "Dis is hell, Mauve... what did we do to deserve hell? We didn' commit no crime...did we?"

 

Mauve shrugged his shoulders again. "It's betta dan livin' on de streets, mon ami. We don' have parents and we're... different. We wouldn' survive on our own."

 

After finishing his sandwich, Noir sipped from the wine once more and then snuggled up on the mattress. "I'd survive... I would..."

 

"Forget about it, Noir. He'll never let you go! We'll all die sustainin' him." The boy's tone softened briefly. "I know it's harder on you dan for us. He feeds on you almost every day and... I know how much it hurts."

 

Closing his eyes, he pretended to be asleep. I can' stay here! I'll die if I stay. Mon Dieu, please let me find a way out! Please! Too tired from the recent power drain, his eyes slipped shut and he fell asleep.

 

Mauve unwrapped the blanket from his own form and draped it over his friend, knowing Noir needed the warmth.

 

///

 

"I can walk," he said, determinedly, and allowed Mauve to support him unnoticed.

 

Rose, convinced that the boys could walk, nodded his head. "Return to your rooms and wait until de Antiquary calls for you 'gain." Rose left them alone.

 

"Mauve, I can' make it on my own," he admitted. "My head's spinnin' and..."

 

"Bien, Noir, hold on to me. I'll take you to your room." Mauve kept a close eye on his surroundings, knowing he would be in a lot of trouble if the Antiquary caught him supporting his friend.

 

"Merci, Mauve, merci..."

 

Together they mastered the stairs and Mauve helped him lie down on his bed. The luxury of the room stood in stark contrast to the basement. Silk sheets, a burning fire place, and garments made from the finest linen, gave the room a false sense of home.

 

"You'll be bien, Noir. I'm goin' to my own room, now, bien?" Mauve felt nervous; the Antiquary didn't want the boys to befriend each other and they were already closer than was allowed.

 

"Oui, go," he whispered, pulling the warm, soft comforter over his body and hiding beneath it. "Mais leave de light on!" Although bright lights hurt his eyes he couldn't sleep in the complete dark any longer, not after he'd found the Antiquary at his bedside one night, ready to claim his lips and drain him.

 

"Sure," Mauve said reassuringly and turned the nightlight on. "Bien?" Mauve softly closed the door behind him and headed for his own room.

 

"Bien," Noir sighed contentedly. Feeling warm, his eyes closed again, only to flash open again when he heard noises coming from the doorway. He elbowed himself into a sitting position and found that the old man was standing in the doorway. Shivers ran up and down his spine and his teeth chattered.

 

The old man seemed to float inside, his feet never touching the ground. "You served me well tonight."

 

Too weak to jump up from the bed, he could only stare as the ghastly apparition advanced on him. What does he want from me? Why me?

 

"From now on you won' leave your room without my explicit permission."

 

The red on black eyes widened. "Why m'sieur? Did I displease you?" He wouldn't see Mauve or any of the other boys again if he was confined to his room!

 

"You're gettin' too friendly with the others and I can' allow dat. You'll spend your days in here." He raised his hand and tangled it in the boy's silken hair. "You're too valuable, Noir."

 

He shuddered beneath the touch and sighed, relieved when the old man left his room. Looking about, he took in his room, his new prison. Non! I won' stay! I will find a way to get 'way from him!

 

///

 

"Noir! The Antiquary wants you at his side. I'm here to help you get dressed." Jaune stormed into his room, looking dazed and nervous. "We only have ten minutes to get you ready."

 

"I ain' sure I can get to my feet," he whispered, feeling weaker than ever before. This last week the old man had fed on him every night and he was barely able to push down the blanket.

 

"You're supposed to drink dis, hurry!" Jaune, a fifteen year old boy with white hair and haunted green eyes handed him a goblet filled with a dark liquid.

 

It wasn't the first time the Antiquary had ordered him to drink this vile substance. It would strengthen him temporarily and then he'd crash hard. He had no way out and emptied the goblet. "Why does he want me to come downstairs?" He felt like a rag doll when Jaune began to dress him in a blue silk shirt and black, velvet trousers.

 

"He's expecting a visitor... an important one," Jaune revealed as he finished dressing Noir. Quickly, he combed the long auburn hair and he let it hang loose, just the way the Antiquary liked it. After helping the boy to step into his shoes, he shooed Noir toward the doorway.

 

He stumbled over his own two feet after being horizontal this last week. Jaune caught him and he held on, making it downstairs. Slowly, the Antiquary's concoction began to take effect and he felt stronger, experimentally brushing off Jaune's arm. Yes, he could walk on his own. He had to!

 

///

 

"Stand beside me and don' speak or move without my permission," the Antiquary said, pleased that the boy was standing at his side.

 

"Oui, m'sieur." Noir leaned slightly against the wall behind him. When the old man didn't reprimand him, he sighed softly. This way he could make it through the next few hours.

 

"Jean-Luc LeBeau, Patriarch of the Thieves Guild of New Orleans, wishes an audience with you, Antiquary."

 

"Who are you?" The Antiquary's eyes narrowed.

 

"My name is Henri LeBeau and I'm the Patriarch’s son," Henri said proudly.

 

The Antiquary nodded his head. "Let him enter, but tell him to remain at a distance."

 

Henri joined his father and the two Cajuns returned again, standing in front of the Antiquary, then kneeling and bowing their heads. "Merci for granting us dis audience, Antiquary," Henri said, while his eyes scanned the room. Twenty boys stood behind the throne, close to the Antiquary and they seemed confused, their eyes vacant and lost.

 

Jean-Luc was doing the same thing, checking the boys' faces, searching for the alien eyes that haunted him every night since he'd stolen the baby from the hospital. Looking up at the Antiquary his gaze was drawn to the pale and skinny boy next to the old man. The auburn hair reached the boy's shoulders and the red on black eyes were lowered; the boy was staring at the floor, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. Or mebbe he's only actin'... tryin' to fool us.

 

Seeing the boy after nine long years shocked him. He'd tried before to get an audience with the Antiquary, but had always been denied that privilege... until now. The Assassins were gaining strength and they needed the Antiquary to set the balance straight again.

 

"So, de Assassins are causin' problems?" The Antiquary raised his hand and rested it on Noir's head, stroking the long hair absentmindedly.

 

He shivered under the caress, but forced himself to remain motionless. The old man always sensed his fear and he couldn't let his panic show in front of the other boys. They would only make fun of him later. They all feared the Antiquary and tried hard to gain his favor by making fun of the weaker ones.

 

"Oui, de fightin' started 'gain. T’ieves and Assassins are killin' each other. We need your help, Antiquary." Jean-Luc hated to grovel like this, but the Antiquary loved to feel in control and would be more inclined to help him. Unnoticed, he managed to keep an eye on the boy he had stolen from the hospital nine years ago. His plan had better work, because this was the only chance he'd get!

 

The Antiquary fingered a lock of auburn hair, considering Jean-Luc's request. The master thief had delivered the mutant boy into his hands years ago and he wanted to keep the Patriarch on his good side; Jean-Luc probably figured the Antiquary owed him. "Oui, I'll help de T’ieves regain their position. Now leave me. There are more... delicious matters I have to attend to."

 

Jean-Luc caught the boy's shivers and he wondered what had caused them. Did the Antiquary abuse the kids? Looking at their faces, he read the answer in their eyes; they were nothing but rag dolls, ready to carry out the Antiquary's orders. Contrary to the others, the red on black eyed boy still seemed defiant. Now, Etienne, now!

 

An explosion rocked the building and the children stared at each other in panic. The Antiquary was too surprised to act and the boys ran off in different directions as a huge smoke cloud drifted into the room.

 

Jean-Luc was already on his way to the boy when he found the spot next to the Antiquary empty. Merde, where did he go? Why didn' I keep my eye on him? I don' even know what name to call to get his attention!

 

The Antiquary composed himself and noticed the boy's disappearance as well. "Bring Noir to me, now go and find him!" The few boys that had stayed behind or had returned nodded their heads and went in search of Noir.

 

Noir, Jean-Luc thought. Who calls a boy Noir? De chile deserves a bon name! The Antiquary told him to leave the premises until they had figured out what had caused the explosion and he obeyed eagerly. I've got to find de chile! Mon Dieu, help him when he hits de streets! He knows rien 'bout life on de streets!

 

Jean-Luc's mouth turned dry, realizing what danger the boy was in.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter two

Bourbon Street

 

 

Running, he was running harder than he ever had before and he didn't have any place to go. The moment he left the Antiquary's home, he crashed on to a busy street and people almost knocked him over. Men in suits, women in pretty dresses and kids running and whining were suddenly all around him. His eyes almost popped from their sockets and he flung himself against the wall, trying to hide from their eyes.

 

Shocked, he stared at the crowd. Although he was still trying to deal with the sudden noise, he noticed one thing straight away; his clothes made him seem oddly out of place. No one was wearing silk or velvet!

 

Moving, he had to keep moving and stay ahead of the Antiquary, who would doubtlessly hunt him down. Suddenly, a large man bounced into him, knocked him off his feet and he crawled back to his feet. The man hadn’t even apologized or helped him!

 

Dese people don' care, he realized with a start. He was all alone here. Yes, he had rid himself of the Antiquary, but now he was at the mercy of these strangers! Picking up speed, he moved with the crowd until he ended up on an even busier street. The sun was setting and a million lights were switching on, blinding him.

 

Moaning in pain, he managed to drag himself into an alley, where he massaged his throbbing brow and temples. He had told Mauve he could survive on his own, but now he was no longer sure of his survival skills. Maybe he should go back to the Antiquary? At least there he had shelter and food.

 

Non! I ain' goin' back, ever! Somehow he'd find a way to survive! Now that the darkness of the alley shielded his eyes, he took in his surroundings. The houses were all illuminated and there was writing on them. He cursed the Antiquary for not teaching him how to read or write; the old man had deemed that unnecessary.

 

Several men left the houses and swayed onto the street, singing and swinging a bottle. Their eyes were glazed and he shrunk back instinctively, trying to make himself invisible. Then he noticed the girls. They only wore tiny shirts and skirts and didn't seem cold at all, while he was freezing. They talked to the swaying men and tried to lure them back inside again.

 

Scared, yet curious at the same time, he watched the men disappear into the houses. Looking up, something caught his attention. A man and a woman had retreated into the alley as well and the man was panting hard. What are dey doin'? In the end, his curiosity won and he sneaked a little closer.

 

The woman had unbuttoned the man's trousers and... Noir cocked his head, trying to get a better look. She was pulling at something and... Why is she goin' down on her knees? One more step and he was close enough to see what they were doing.

 

Mon Dieu! What? Noir looked down at his own body and frowned. Why was the woman licking the man's penis? Why? Does he have to pee and can' and she's somehow helpin' him? It just didn't make any sense.

 

The man began to pant harder and Noir found himself holding his breath. He was unable to take his eyes off the scene, instinctively waiting for whatever would follow next. Noir gasped when the man clutched the woman's head and drove her against his stomach. She yelped softly and then cursed, while the man seemed to tense and shiver.

 

"Bastard!" she spat in disgust. "I said I didn't swallow. That'll cost you extra!"

 

The man laughed, buttoned up again and threw a piece of paper at her. "Here you've got another ten, whore."

 

Stunned, Noir backed away from them and collapsed against the wall, slowly sliding down onto the cobblestone where he wrapped his arms around his cold body. He didn't understand what he had witnessed, but feared knotted his stomach and he began to heave. The dry heaves only lasted a few minutes, but he felt wretched and exhausted.

 

"What do we have here?"

 

The voice startled him and he jumped to his feet. He wanted to start running, but a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. A man, dressed in dark clothes, stood in front of him and left him no way out. "Lemme go, m'sieur, please!" He kicked; trying to struggle free, but the man effortlessly lifted him, until his feet were no longer in contact with the cobblestone. Lemme go! Don' take me back to de Antiquary.

 

A bright flashlight made him cry out in pain and he tried to cover his eyes with his hand. The big man didn't let him and he began to cry, overwhelmed by everything he had witnessed since fleeing the Antiquary's home. Mebbe Mauve was right. Mebbe I can' do this... mebbe I can' survive on my own, mais I can' go back eit'er...

 

"Are you hungry, kid?"

 

"De lights... hurt my eyes." He was shaking like a leaf and still trying to struggle free from the man's hold.

 

"Don't be scared, kid. My name is MacAfee, Officer MacAfee. I'm a cop." He tried to keep the shock from his voice, staring into red on black eyes. Why did the boy have alien eyes? Did it matter? The boy obviously needed help.

 

Suddenly his feet touched the cobblestone again and he hesitantly glanced up at the man. Friendly brown eyes stared back at him and the gentle grin on the man's face made him smile back. "M'sieur."

 

"What's a kid your age doing out here alone?" MacAfee leaned in closer, keeping his smile in place. The last thing he wanted was to scare the kid. "Where are your parents? Where do you life?"

 

"Parents?" He repeated the strange word. "What are parents?"

 

MacAfee's eyes grew big. "You got hit over the head or what? Maybe I should take you to the hospital."

 

Hospital? Non, don' like de sound of dat. I don' want to be locked up in some strange place. Looking about, he decided that he wanted to stay on the streets where he could run into a deserted alley when necessary. His stomach growled hungrily and he wrapped his arms around his abdomen.

 

"Maybe we should grab a bite to eat?" MacAfee suggested. He would try to win the kid's trust and then take him to the hospital to have him checked out. The parents were probably going crazy, now that their kid was missing.

 

"Eat? As in food?" He was hungry and had no idea where and how to get something to eat. "Oui."

 

"Gimme your hand, kid." MacAfee extended his hand. He frowned as the boy jerked back and tried to hide in the shadows. "Okay, kid, I won't touch you, just let's get something to eat, alright?"

 

"Eat, oui..." The man moved away and he followed MacAfee, but never moved close enough for the man to touch him. Officer... the man had said he was an officer. "What's an officer?"

 

"I'm a cop," MacAfee explained; it was unbelievable that this kid didn't know what parents and cops were! "I take care of people who need help."

 

I need help... non, I don' need help! Can survive on my own! He was almost knocked from his feet when they mixed with the crowd, but suddenly MacAfee had a strong hold on his shoulder and... Rose and Rouge were holding him down, making it easy for the Antiquary to drain him and... reliving the flashback, he broke free and began to run again.

 

"Hey, kid, wait for me!" MacAfee tried to follow the boy, but soon lost the kid amidst the crowd. "Damn! If the pimps get hold of him..." Feeling discouraged, MacAfee walked toward the coffee shop where he had wanted to buy the kid something to eat, but he remained alert, hoping to catch another glimpse of the boy.

 

///

 

The rainfall had worsened and his wet clothes clung to his body. His long hair obscured his face as he made his way down Bourbon Street. From beneath his hair he studied the scantily dressed girls, the drunk men and realized surviving on these streets would be hard. Again, hands grabbed him, but he shook them off.

 

"Come on, kid, go home with me. I'll even pay you fifty bucks!"

 

The proposal made him shiver. "Non, leave me alone," He managed to give the man the slip and retreated back into one of the alleys. A few steps away from him another boy accepted the money and pressed himself against the man, who led his prize away from the crowd.

 

Bucks... bucks is a different word for dollars, money... I overheard them talkin' and she asked him for fifty bucks and he gave her a piece of paper. She went into a store and bought somethin', givin' de shopkeeper dat piece of paper. Slowly, the world was beginning to make sense and it was an ugly world he found himself in.

 

"Got some change to spare? Monsieur? Got some change to spare? Some change?"

 

The words caught his attention and he saw an older boy leaning against the walls, holding up his hands. Sometimes a man or woman threw a coin into his open hands. Beggin', he's beggin'! Stunned, he looked at his own hands. I can do dat too!

 

Moving away from the alley, he mimicked the boy's words and moves. "Got some change to spare? Some change?" He held out his hand, watching the people's faces as they passed him by.

 

"Hey, this is my spot! Find your own or I'll kick your ass! Move it, shrimp!"

 

It was the boy he had mimicked, and he was awfully pissed off. Keeping his eyes lowered, he hoped the other boy hadn't caught sight of his alien eyes yet. "I'm sorry. I'll move on..."

 

"You'd better! If Monsieur Cardinale catches sight of you he'll want you for his stable."

 

"Stable?" Confused, he looked up at the other boy, forgetting about shielding his eyes.

 

"Sweet Jesus!" The other boy backed away and crossed himself.

 

"What? My eyes... I was born dat way, can' help it."

 

The boy eyed him suspiciously. "You're new around here, aren't you? The word would have been on the street by now if you'd been around for a while."

 

Feeling miserable, he leaned against the wall. "Please, I'm so cold and hungry..."

 

"What's your name, kid?"

 

"Noir."

 

"Noir? What kinda name is that?"

 

"De only one I have. He named me Noir."

 

"He? Your father?"

 

"Fat'er?" He looked pleading at the other boy. "What's a fat'er?"

 

"Your père, your poppa... The man who took care of you."

 

"Oui, then I guess he's my père. He named me Noir." Shivering from the cold, he tried to wrap the wet clothes more closely around his body. "What do I do?" he whispered, lost.

 

"My name's Philippe," the other boy introduced himself. "I'll take you to the shelter. The Salvation Army runs one on Bienville Street. Maybe they'll even let you spend the night there." 

 

"Merci." Philippe held out his right hand and he reluctantly took hold of it. "Where are we? What is dis place?"

 

Philippe frowned. "Bourbon Street."

 

"Are we still in N'Awlins?"

 

"Yes, but..." Philippe now noticed the old fashioned clothes the boy was wearing. "Where does your father life?"

 

He shivered. "Don' know," he whispered; it wasn't really a lie. He really didn't know where the Antiquary's house was situated. "How do I survive out here?"

 

Philippe's frown deepened. "You don't want to survive out here, kid. Go home, don't stay here!"

 

"Can' go home!" he exploded. "Hurts too much..." Flashbacks made him halt in his tracks and he tried to breathe through them, feeling the Antiquary's lips on his again, draining him...

 

Philippe shrugged his shoulders. "Should have known that your old man couldn't keep his dirty hands to himself. Isn't that why we all end up here?"

 

"What did 'your old man' do?" Philippe seemed to like him and he needed a friend if he wanted to survive on Bourbon Street.

 

"He abused me, kid..." Philippe briefly locked eyes with him. "Did he abuse you too?"

 

"Abuse?" He didn't know the word and tightened his hold on Philippe's hand. "What's abuse?"

 

Philippe released a strangled sigh. How was it possible that this kid didn't know these words? "Abuse is when someone uses your body against your will. You don't want him to touch you, but he still does and he hurts you a lot." He didn't know how else to explain it in terms the boy might understand.

 

"Oui," he whispered, nodding his head. The Antiquary had used him while he had tried to fight the old man off. The Antiquary had invaded his mind, had taken his life energy from him, leaving him exhausted and bruised. "He hurt me a lot."

 

"I'm sorry to hear that, kid, but that's life." Philippe cursed himself privately. He didn't have the time or the money to look after the boy. He had to take care of himself first! "Here's the shelter. Be polite and they'll help you. The people that run this shelter are okay."

 

"Merci for helpin' me, Philippe." He looked inside and saw several people carrying clothes and canned foods. Looking back at Philippe, he swallowed hard. "Will I see you 'gain?"

 

"You know where to find me, shrimp." Philippe ruffled the dirty hair, wondering what the kid's real hair color was. "But don't come there at night; it's much too dangerous for someone as young as you."

 

He nodded his head. "I'll find you... merci, Philippe."

 

Philippe pushed the boy inside. "Go ask them for some dry clothes and something to eat. If they got enough beds you can stay for the night as well." He waved at the little boy as he walked away.

 

Taking a deep breath, he walked up to an elderly woman who was sorting through a pile of clothes. She wore black clothes and a little hat, which struck him as funny and he grinned. "Madame?"

 

She looked up from her chore and raised an eyebrow. "Petit?" Taking in his appearance she shook her head. "You're cold and wet, petit and you need a shower." She grabbed his hand and pulled him along. "Here, take a shower and I'll put some dry clothes in dere by de time you're ready."

 

Totally overwhelmed, he accepted the dry towels and the bar of soap, which she pushed into his hands. "Merci, madame." After she had left the shower, he quickly stripped and stepped beneath the warm shower spray. Letting the warm water cascade down his body he took hold of the soap and worked up a lather, washing his hair as well. Feeling a little melancholy, he recalled the luxurious baths back at the Antiquary's home, but he wasn't going back there, ever!

 

"Chile? Get dressed! I got you some warm soup and bread!"

 

He recognized the woman's voice and quickly dried his skin and hair. She had placed underwear, a white T-shirt, a brown sweater, socks and a pair of jeans where his dirty clothes had been. Hesitantly, he dressed, left the shower cabin and went in search of her. "Madame."

 

"Ah, it's de petit. My name is Marie," she introduced herself and guided him to the kitchen. "Sit down, petit and start eating."

 

He shoveled the bread quickly into his mouth and looked toward her for more.

 

"Soup first," she chided him.

 

He quickly finished the soup and handed her the empty bowl. "More, please?"

 

Smiling, she refilled his bowl and handed him another piece of bread. After sitting down opposite him she watched him eat. "What's your name, petit?"

 

"Noir," he whispered between bites. He smiled at her; she had pretty blonde locks and friendly blue eyes. "Can I stay here?"

 

"For now, oui," Marie replied. "We got enough beds so you can stay de night. Tomorrow we'll start looking for your parents."

 

The spoon slipped from his fingers and crashed into the bowl. "Non! Don' wanna go back!"

 

Marie sighed deeply. "You ran away, didn't you, petit?"

 

"Oui," he mouthed between two spoonfuls of soup. Using his newly found knowledge, he added, "He abused me."

 

"Oh, poor petit." Marie placed her hand over his. "I'll contact Child Protection Services, mebbe dey can help you!"

 

He wasn't sure he wanted her to do that, but remained silent, too focussed on eating his soup. Once he had finished, he yawned, trying to keep his eyes open. She didn' say a t'ing 'bout my eyes, wonder why?

 

"Come wit' me, petit. I'll show you your bed." Marie guided him to the sleeping quarters and helped him climb his bed. "Bien?"

 

"Bien." He looked about and recognized the type of men that occupied the other beds. Those were the men that swayed over Bourbon Street, taking girls into the dark alleys and unbuttoning their trousers. Suddenly, he didn't feel safe anymore. I'm gonna sleep and tomorrow mornin' I'm outa here.

 

"Dese shoes should fit you." Marie placed a pair of sneakers beneath his bed. "Lie down, petit."

 

He obeyed and she covered him with the blanket. "Try to get some sleep."

 

"Merci, madame," he whispered and smiled, thankful for her friendliness. Closing his eyes, he realized just how tired he really was and slipped into sleep.

 

"Poor petit," Marie sighed. "I wish I could help you..." But the Child Protection Services were already understaffed and wouldn't be able to do much for the runaway. Noir was destined to become one of the many street kids and hustlers that lived on Bourbon Street.

 

///

 

The next morning, he grabbed his shoes, put them on, stole a coat and fled the shelter. He had overheard Marie talk to a stranger about returning him to his father and he couldn't go back to the Antiquary. Now he was on Bourbon Street again and the cobblestone almost made him trip, running as fast as he did.

 

He was searching for Philippe, maybe the older boy would help him! He felt better today; his clothes were dry and although they weren't a perfect fit, he didn't stand out that much any more. He continued down Bourbon Street, searching for Philippe.

 

It wasn't that crowded yet. A few men were sleeping off their hangovers in the alleys and the girls were standing on the balconies, talking and giggling.

 

"Philippe!" Suddenly, he saw the older boy, emerging from an alley. His clothes were rumpled and his left cheek bruised. Freezing in his tracks, he watched how an older man pushed passed Philippe while swatting the boy on his butt. "Philippe?" Slowly approaching the older boy, he remained alert.

 

"Ah, it's you again. Didn't I tell you to stay at the shelter?" Philippe rubbed his bruised cheek and walked slowly.

 

"Are you hurtin'?" He fell into step beside Philippe.

 

"Why didn't you stay at the shelter?" Philippe clutched his stomach in pain.

 

"Dey were gonna take me back to my père..." Cautiously, he rested his hand on Philippe's and was startled when the older boy jerked back. "Where are we goin'?"

 

Philippe didn't want to be stuck with the kid, but couldn't tell him to go to hell either. "I'm renting a room nearby. You can stay there for now..."

 

In silence they walked to an old building. Philippe climbed the stairs slowly, moaning in pain. After opening the door, he pointed at a chair. "The bed's mine... make yourself useful and tidy up a bit."

 

"Oui, bien!" Glad that he could do something useful he began to clean up while Philippe climbed into bed. "What's dis?" He stared at the strange, white, filthy piece of rubber.

 

"It's a condom, dummy," Philippe said bitterly. "Never let them fuck you without protection."

 

"A condom? Fuck?" His eyes grew big, tasting the words. Seeing Philippe's stunned expression, he threw the thing in the wastebasket.

 

"Sweet Jesus, you have no idea what I'm talking about!" Philippe exclaimed, tired. "Come here, kid."

 

He sat down on the side of the bed, watching Philippe with a concerned expression in his eyes. "Tell me?" He had to know what he was up against if he wanted to survive.

 

"You use a condom when a man wants to have sex with you."

 

"Sex?"

 

"Fuck..." Philippe shook his head. "Where do you come from? Another century? When you pee you touch your penis, okay?"

 

He nodded his head, wondering what Philippe was trying to tell him.

 

"Sometimes, a penis gets hard and that's called an erection. When that happens a man wants to have sex, to put his penis in you and then he starts to thrust until he comes."

 

"Comes?"

 

Philippe's eyes grew big. "He shoots cream from his penis. They will pay you for making them come."

 

He still didn't understand. "Where does he want to put his penis?"

 

Philippe's hand moved between the boy's legs, touching his anus. "Right here."

 

He jumped up from the bed, putting distance between them. "Mais it's much too small!"

 

"It'll fit, don't worry," Philippe said in a bitter tone. "Make sure they never fuck you without a condom." Seeing the boy's puzzled look, he added, "Make sure he puts it around his penis."

 

"Do you let dem do dat to you? Is dat why you're hurtin'?"

 

"Yeah, I earned a hundred dollars last night." He uncovered the money and showed it to the boy. "But there are easier ways to make money."

 

"Like what?" He sat back down on the bed and watched Philippe's eyes. They reminded him of Mauve’s, Rose’s, Rouge's, all the children the Antiquary had used.

 

"You can suck them off," Philippe said tired, figuring he had better educated the boy before a dirty bastard got to him. "Again, make sure they use a condom."

 

"Suck dem off?" Trembling, he stared at Philippe.

 

"Close your lips around his penis and suck. Don't let them pay you less than fifty. They get off on using someone as young as you."

 

"I saw a woman do dat to a man in de alley," he remembered. "She said she didn' wanna swallow, mais he forced her to do it anways."

 

"Stay away from the dirty old bastards, kid. You're quick and agile. Try to find someone who can teach you how to pick their pockets instead." Philippe's eyes closed. "I need to get some sleep, kid. It's show time again in a few hours. Watch some TV, but keep the noise down." Using the remote, he switched on the TV.

 

Dazedly, he walked over to the screen and touched it with his fingertips. Animals were sneaking through the jungle and they were close enough to touch, but his fingertips only encountered glass. "TV," he whispered, stunned and sat down in front of it, watching over Philippe as the older boy slept.

 

///

 

Several hours later Philippe opened his eyes and wondered why the TV was on. Seeing the boy slumped in front of it brought his memories back. He should know better than to pick up runaways; he could barely support himself. If the kid wanted to stay, he would have to start pulling his weight. "Wake up!"

 

The boy jerked awake, panicked briefly and then smiled at Philippe.

 

"What's your name again?" Philippe struggled to his feet, determined to take a shower before heading out onto the streets again.

 

"I found myself a new one. I was watchin' a movie and dere was dis kid, trying' to make it on his own. His name was Remy... I like dat name... I hate Noir!"

 

"Okay, Remy, if that's what you want me to call you. Do you cook?" Philippe stripped and stepped into the bathroom. Still need to clean up in here. It's a mess.

 

"Cook?" Remy followed Philippe, shyly taking in the older boy's body, seeing the bruises on his hips and the tiny amount of blood clinging to his buttocks. "Are you still in pain?"

 

Philippe shook his head. "I'm fine, now try to find something edible in the kitchen?"

 

Remy eagerly nodded his head. After rummaging in the nearly empty fridge, he managed to make some sandwiches.

 

Philippe exited the bathroom again after slipping into some clean clothes. His rent was due tonight and he had better find some johns who were interested in him. Maybe he could take the kid along, use him to bait the johns.

 

Philippe dug into the sandwiches and studied the kid. He didn't make enough money to support both of them. "Do you want to stay?"

 

"Oui, please." Remy waited until Philippe had eaten his share and then devoured the remaining sandwiches.

 

"You'll have to pull your weight, make your own money..." Philippe sighed, hating himself for making his next suggestion. "They'll pay good money if you suck them off."

 

Remy almost choked on his sandwich. "You want me to do... dat?"

 

"We need the money, kid. It's either that, or you've got to leave." He also had to talk to his dealer; he needed more stuff. The crack made his life bearable and his last dose was losing effect. He was coming down hard, but tried to hide that from the kid. Remy probably didn't know about drugs yet and he wanted to keep it that way for now.

 

"I don' know if I can do dat," Remy admitted; a lump was forming in his throat and the image of the man and woman in that alley was glued to his retina.

 

"Here, use these." Philippe handed Remy some sunglasses. "I don't know how the johns will react to your eyes so we'd better play it safe."

 

Remy put on the sunglasses. "Do I really have to?"

 

"I'm not forcing you to go along with this, kid. You're free to leave whenever you want. Go back to your old man or the shelter. It's not like I'm not giving you a choice."

 

"I'm comin' wit' you," Remy decided eventually. He couldn't go back to the shelter where they would take him back to the Antiquary. Somehow, he would survive.

 

///

 

Remy was standing behind Philippe, feeling scared and nervous. A few men had already approached them, asking them about the prices they charged. Much to Philippe's chagrin, the johns were only interested in the boy. Part of him wanted to protect the kid, keep away the ugliness, but another part needed the crack and was considering acting as his pimp.

 

"How much?" A middle aged, bald man, dressed in jeans and a black shirt stared at Remy, devouring the kid with his eyes. "How old is he?"

 

"How old are you?" Philippe nudged Remy in his side.

 

"I'm nine..."

 

"Nine years old? Fuck, I never had one that young! How much?" The man was drooling and already uncovering his wallet.

 

Philippe sat on his heels and locked eyes with Remy. "We need the money. My rent is due tonight and if we can't pay it, we'll be living on the streets."

 

Remy squirmed. "I don' t'ink I can do dis, Philippe..."

 

"Why don't we find out first what he wants and how much he's willing to pay?"

 

"Bien," Remy whispered, reluctantly nodding his head.

 

Philippe faced the man again. "What do you want?"

 

"I want to fuck him," the man said, drooling.

 

"No," Philippe said determinedly. No matter how much he wanted the money he didn't want the boy traumatized. "He'll suck you off for one hundred dollars."

 

Remy's eyes grew big behind the sunglasses. Non...

 

"Remy, we need the money! You won't find another guy who's willing to give you one hundred bucks for a blowjob. You can do it."

 

Remy didn't want to disappoint Philippe and nodded his head. "I'll try." The mere thought of taking the man's penis in his mouth made him gag, but Philippe needed the money and he didn't want to lose his friend.

 

"Good boy." Philippe patted Remy's hair and then faced the man again. "You pay me first."

 

The man eyed them suspiciously, but then handed Philippe the money. "He'd better be good."

 

"Remy, walk into that alley..." Philippe shooed him deeper into the darkness and then turned to their customer. "Here, use a condom. If he tells me you ditched it, the deal's off."

 

Growling, the man grabbed the condom and stalked into the alley. Remy stood motionless and the john signaled him to come closer. He loved it when they kneeled in front of him, but the boy was small and wouldn't be able to suck him off on his knees. "Unzip me."

 

Remy's hands trembled when they unzipped the man's jeans. A vile stench assaulted his nostrils and he swallowed hard, knowing Philippe needed him to do this.

 

"Take it out."

 

While taking deep breaths, Remy obeyed and stared at the throbbing cock in his hands. It was way too big to put in his mouth! He would choke! The man put one hand over his and moved it along his cock.

 

"Yeah, pump it, kid..." His breath was coming in spurts and he bucked hard.

 

Hidden by the sunglasses, tears flowed down Remy's face. While stroking the hard rod of flesh in his hands he started to shiver.

 

"Open those lips, little one..."

 

Without warning, the man grabbed him roughly by his shoulders and pushed his cock past his teeth. Remy nearly choked, shock and stark terror were building in his stomach. It was getting hard to breathe when the man began to thrust and he wanted to beg the man to stop, but the thrusts grew more violent, hitting the back of his throat. The latex condom made him nauseous and he struggled in earnest now, wishing the man would stop.

 

Suddenly, the man thrust deeply and kept him in place, burying himself deep in his throat. Remy tried to call out, to tell Philippe he couldn't take it, but then the man pulled back, patting his head.

 

"You've got sweet lips, little one," the man said, removing the condom, tying it and throwing it onto the ground. "I'll be back and then I'll fuck your little ass..." Walking away, he grinned, leaving Remy alone in the alley.

 

"Remy, are you alright? Remy?" Philippe rushed closer and found Remy kneeled on the cobblestone, arms wrapped around him and rocking hard. "It's gonna be okay, kid. Together with the hundred dollars I made last night and yours we can pay the rent." And I can buy some crack as well... He wanted to fold one arm around Remy to reassure him, but the boy jerked away from him.

 

"Don' touch me!"

 

The red eyes flared in the darkness. "I'm sorry, kid, but you'd better get used to servicing them. It's the only way to survive out here. When I started out three years ago, I thought I could survive without being a whore, but the truth is, you can't. It's the only way to make money."

 

"You mean I've got to do it 'gain?" He stared at Philippe in disbelief. The other boy nodded his head; Remy's stomach suddenly contracted and he threw up, bile rising from his stomach.

 

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. The first time is always the worst," Philippe said reassuringly. "You'll find a way to deal with it..." He rubbed Remy's back and stopped the long hair from falling into the boy's face. "If you're lucky you only have to do it once, maybe twice a night. Not every john will pay a hundred bucks for a blow job."

 

Shocked and miserable, Remy rode out the dry heaves and stared at the cobblestone. I can' go back to de Antiquary... But he wasn't sure he could suck someone off again. Mais do I have a choice? Looking up at Philippe, he realized he had made his choice when he had agreed to the blowjob. "Philippe? I'm scared."

 

"I know you are... I was scared too when I started working the streets, but we've got each other. I'll help you through it..." Like the crack helped him through it and he had better score something tonight.

 

Remy used his sleeve to clean his lips and wished he could wash away the vile taste with a drink, maybe even brush his teeth.

 

"Come on, let's get moving. Cardinale's boys will be here soon and we had better be gone by then. This is their spot and I don't want to get into a fight with their pimp." Dragging Remy to his feet, they left the alley.

 

Remy leaned heavily on Philippe, his head reeling and his body trembling. He felt like a stranger had taken over his body and he followed Philippe obediently when the older boy took him to their room.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter three.

Hustling.

 

 

"Here's your money."

 

Remy accepted the seventy dollars and handed them to Philippe. He still hated performing this act, but by sucking them off he made enough money to help pay the rent and buy food. Philippe nodded his head after counting the money and Remy took the man upstairs to their room. It had been raining for days now and he wanted to be someplace dry and warm, not catching pneumonia on Bourbon Street.

 

"Nice crib you got here," the huge, black man said as he sat down on the bed. "Come on, kid, give it to me."

 

Remy took a few breaths to steady himself. He would never get used to sucking them off, but he had learned how to push back his feelings until he felt numb; that made going down on them easier.

 

He kneeled in front of the bed and the man spread his legs. With moves that were now well practiced, Remy unbuttoned the man's jeans and pushed down his underwear. Hiding his disgust, he took the man's cock in his hand and stroked it a few times.

 

"Your mouth, kid, I want your mouth." The man leaned against the wall, stretching his long body.

 

Quickly, he rolled down the condom and then leaned in closer, taking the latex-covered cock into his mouth. Sucking it hard, he tried to get it over with quickly.

 

"Slow down, kid, slow down!" The man bucked hard.

 

Suddenly the john's hands clutched his head and they pushed him deeper onto the cock until he almost gagged. Relaxing his throat, he took in the long rod and deepthroated him, knowing it would earn him an extra ten bucks.

 

"Yeah, hell, you're good, son... that's it, nice and slow... and deep."

 

Remy felt the man tense beneath him and sucked hard; the man came, pushing his cock against the back of his throat. I hate dis! He wanted to scream the words, but his lips were closed around a now sated cock. Finally the man pulled back.

 

"Good boy," he said approvingly. "Why don't you let me fuck you, son? It would earn you another eighty bucks." He was one of Remy's regulars and always asked that same question after the boy had sucked him off.

 

"I don' let anyone fuck me," Remy said stubbornly, disposing of the condom and buttoning the man's jeans again.

 

"I could make it worth your while, little boy."

 

Remy turned away, trying to hide his loathing. "You'd better get outa here now."

 

"I'll be back next week!"

 

The door closed behind him and Remy rushed toward the bathroom, vigorously brushing his teeth to rid himself of the rubber taste in his mouth. Staring at his reflection in the mirror, he took off the sunglasses and cringed. He didn't sleep that well and large circles had formed under his eyes. He had also lost weight these last three months. They didn't always have enough money to buy food and Philippe needed most of their money to buy crack.

 

His world had collapsed when he had found out that Philippe was a crack addict. So far he'd managed to stay away from drugs, but he was crumbling, searching for something to make this miserable life bearable.

 

"Remy?" Philippe slowly entered the bathroom, staring at the boy's reflection. He cringed, recalling how Remy had looked when they had first met. The boy was going downhill, fast, and it was his fault! But I don't have a choice! We need the money!

 

Remy put his sunglasses back on and turned around. "You got anot'er one?"

 

"No, no more johns..." Philippe sat down on the cold bathroom floor and motioned Remy to join him. The boy sat opposite him; the trusting expression gone. They knew they needed each other to survive.

 

"Want some crack?" Philippe uncovered a syringe and showed it to Remy. "It'll make you feel good. I'll even inject it for you."

 

"Non," Remy declined, rising from the floor and moving into the bedroom where he collapsed on the bed. "I wanna sleep."

 

"Sure, Remy, sure." Philippe followed him, sat down on the side of the bed and stroked the long hair. "I'll bring a john home tonight..."

"Why are you tellin' me?"

 

"He offered to pay five hundred dollars if I let him fuck you." Philippe felt the tiny body tense beneath his fingers. "You're a virgin, Remy, you'd better take the money and benefit from it before someone takes it away from you."

 

Remy shook his head. "I don' wanna."

 

"You'd better get it over with, Remy. You know as well as I do that they're paying less for a blowjob these days. You'll have to sell your ass one of these days anyway." Philippe stared at the syringe. He was going to use it to shoot Remy up in a few minutes. The kid might have said no, but surely meant yes. "It doesn't matter where you go, Remy, they'll all want the same thing, your mouth or your ass."

 

Too emotionally drained to argue, Remy remained motionless. In a few hours Philippe would bring the john here and he'd give up his last bit of dignity. I can go back to de Antiquary... Life wasn' dat bad wit' him, was it?

 

His eyes flashed open and the sunglasses fell onto the floor when something sharp slipped beneath his skin. Looking at his right arm, he froze. "Philippe, non!" But the older boy was injecting the dope into his arm and he felt paralyzed, unable to pull away. "Non!"

 

"This way it won't hurt so bad," Philippe said soothingly, while stroking Remy's hair. "It'll take the edge off the pain."

 

Tears flowed down Remy's face as warmth moved through his body. "Non..." he whispered, defeated. "Non..."

 

///

 

Hugo grinned as Philippe led him upstairs to the boys’ room. It had taken him a lot of time and money to convince the young hustler to let him have Remy. Philippe had objected at first, but a thousand dollar was too much money to refuse and Philippe had finally accepted.

 

"Use a condom," Philippe said emotionlessly. "You don't wanna catch any STD's from the kid."

 

Hugo shrugged, but accepted the condom. "Don't disturb me, remember, his ass is mine for the next two hours."

 

"The money," Philippe said in an icy tone. Hugo handed him an envelope and Philippe counted it. "It's all there," he said, pleased. Glancing at the door, he knew he was selling Remy behind his back, but he couldn't turn down the money. "Have a great time and remember, he's a virgin."

 

"That's why I'm paying extra!" Hugo opened the door and stepped inside.

 

///

 

Remy felt a little nauseous and his head was pounding, but the crack was losing its effect. Maybe it had something to do with being a mutant, but he was grateful that he wasn't turning into a zombie like the druggies on the street.

 

Suddenly, the door opened and a man stepped inside. "Who are you?" Then Philippe's words returned to him; his friend had sold his ass for five hundred bucks. Staring at the bulky man, he realized there was no way out. He couldn't outsmart the john.

 

Hugo licked his lips. "You shouldn't trust your friends, kid." He walked towards the bed. With one fluid movement he pulled back the blanket.

 

Remy shivered, realizing he was naked. Philippe must have undressed him while the drugs were working their way through his body.

 

"I already paid your pimp..."

 

My pimp... Remy sighed; the man was right. Philippe was now his pimp.

 

"My name's Hugo," he continued. "I know it's your first time... it will hurt like hell."

 

The vile grin on Hugo's face made Remy freeze. "Don' hurt me, m'sieur. I can make it bon for you..." Resigned to his fate and weakened by the drugs, he laid on his back and spread his legs. He might not have done this before, but he had watched Philippe getting fucked by their johns.

 

Hugo's hands moved over Remy's body, rolling a nipple that refused to grow hard between his fingertips. "Oh, yeah, I'm gonna be the first to fuck that little hole."

 

Remy shivered and bit his bottom lip until it bled. Please, let him finish quickly! Suddenly, Hugo rolled him onto his stomach and pulled him up onto all fours. Remy bowed his head and tried to mentally prepare himself for the act that would follow. Hugo pushed his face into the pillows and they muffled his sobs as the man positioned himself against his entrance, ramming inside and tearing him up. I can' do dis... After the first thrust, Remy lost consciousness.

 

///

 

"I want my money back!" Hugo slammed his fist into the wall. "He passed out while I was fucking him!"

 

"You fucked him! I lived up to my part of the deal!" Philippe flinched, disgusted by what he had done. "Leave him the hell alone, he's just a little kid!" He should have known better, should have protected Remy, but the thousand dollars had been too tempting.

 

"Give me my money back!" Hugo punched Philippe in the face and the boy went down. More punches and kicks followed and Philippe brought up his arms, trying to shield his face. The beating continued for several minutes, then Hugo reached inside Philippe's coat and retrieved the thousand dollars. "Crack addicts..." he spat and left the building, whistling a merry tune.

 

Philippe listened to the footfalls and then opened his eyes. His side was throbbing and blood dripped down his bottom lip. When he tried to move, an indescribable pain seared through his side, settling in his abdomen. Remy, I have to check on Remy!

 

Gathering his strength, he struggled to his feet and used the wall to support himself as he shuffled toward their room. The door was still ajar and he made out a tiny form on the bed, curled up and shivering. Oh, Remy, I'm so sorry.

 

Collapsing to his knees, he crawled the last few feet and laid his head on the side of the bed, studying Remy. "Remy, wake up, Remy!" The boy stirred, but his eyes remained closed.

 

"Remy, I'm so sorry... Remy, I need a doctor..." Remy moved slightly and Philippe saw the blood, clinging to his thighs. "So sorry, Remy... so sorry."

 

Resting his head on the bed, he closed his eyes. His hands, which had been clawing at his stomach, relaxed and dropped onto the floor. Releasing his last breath, he wished he had made fewer mistakes in his miserable life.

 

///

 

Remy woke up because he was cold. Someone forgot to close de door... It took a lot of effort to open his eyes, but when he did, he stared into Philippe's dead eyes. "Mon Dieu, non!" Frozen, he continued to stare into the vacant eyes. He can' be dead, Philippe can' be dead, dis ain' happenin', dis ain' happenin'!

 

Finally, he managed to gather his courage and lifted his right hand, poking Philippe's shoulder. "Philippe? Wake up, it's cold in here, close de door, mon ami."

 

But Philippe remained motionless and Remy finally realized that his friend was dead. Was it an overdose? I 'ways told him de dope would kill him. His arm itched and suddenly he remembered... Non, he shot me up as well!

 

Panting hard, the rest of the memories washed over him; Philippe had sold his ass to Hugo, who had grinned at the prospect of inflicting pain on him. Fortunately, he had passed out during the act.

 

Elbowing himself into a sitting position, he stared at the corpse; Philippe's face was relaxed in death and he envied the peace his friend had found.

 

Shivering from the cold, he pulled up the blanket and started to sob softly. What do I do now? Philippe's dead, I don' have any money and I can' do dis any more. His stomach contracted, remembering Hugo's hands traveling all over his body and then... it had hurt. Sobbing, he struggled to get to his feet, but collapsed next to the bed, beside Philippe's cooling body.

 

Jerking away from the corps, he crawled to the bathroom on all fours, turning on the shower and climbed into it. Curled up, he remained there until the water turned cold, jolting him back to reality. Need to find some clot'es... need to put on some clot'es...

 

Feeling numb inside, he moved instinctively and slipped into some jeans and the brown sweater Marie had given him months ago. Standing in the center of the room, he stared at the debris of his life; Philippe, a few dollar bills, a syringe and a sandwich.

 

I can' live like dis any more... it's over. Shuffling his feet, he managed to get to the doorway where he dropped to his knees. He crawled downstairs and pulled himself back on to his feet. It was still raining outside, but that didn't faze him and he started for the street.

 

Bourbon Street... I should never have come here... should have stayed wit' de Antiquary instead. Should have let him drain me. At least I was warm dere and I didn' have to get everyone off to stay 'live. Should I go back and beg him to take me in 'gain? I have rien left to lose...

 

Walking down the street, he began to feel more alert, the rain wiping the numbness from his mind. The sun was setting and the hustlers and pickpockets were trying to make some money. And I need money... mais I'm no longer sellin' myself.

 

The loneliness, the emptiness in his soul remained, gaining a place of its own and mechanically he started for a man in a long black coat. The man was a fool; his wallet was showing and it would be easy to pick his pocket. Then he would have some money and he could buy food, maybe even some drugs to alleviate the pain in his lower body.

 

Moving soundlessly, he approached his target and reached for the wallet, but then the man's hand grabbed his wrist, pulling him around. "Non, lemme go!" he yelled, kicking and screaming, but the man's hold remained firm.

 

"Tryin' to pick my pocket, petit?" The man turned around, a grin already visible on his face, but it froze when their eyes met. "You?"

 

Remy's eyes narrowed; he had seen that face before, the dark eyes, the fierce moustache and he knew that voice... "De Antiquary..." The memories flashed in his mind. This man was a friend of the Antiquary's! Struggling even harder, he gasped in pain when his stomach objected and his wrist snapped.

 

"Noir," Jean-Luc LeBeau whispered, shocked, recognizing the baby he had stolen almost ten years ago. The boy suddenly stopped fighting him and went limp, collapsing in his arms. "I finally found you, petit."

 

Cringing, Jean-Luc took in the boy's haggard expression and realized he couldn't waste any time. The boy needed a doctor! "I'll take care of you, petit... I promise." He hurried toward his car and placed the boy on the back seat, holding him close. After telling the driver to head home and alert Mattie and their family doctor, he cradled the boy against his chest, rocking him softly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Four

Jean-Luc LeBeau

 

"Jean?" Mattie stared at the small boy in disbelief. "What did you bring home dis time?"

 

"A very special chile, Mattie." He'd never told anyone about the baby he'd stolen and he had to come up with a believable story where Mattie was concerned. She wouldn't rest until she knew the truth, or what was acceptable as the truth. "Prepare de guest room on de ground floor. I don' want him climbin' any stairs for now."

 

Mattie nodded her head. "Does de boy have a name?"

 

"Noir will have to do for now."

 

"Noir?" Mattie raised an eyebrow. "Does he belon' to the Antiquary's Velvet Ministry?"

 

"He did, until some time ago."

 

Mattie suddenly realized what was going on. "Dis is de boy you wanted to help escape?"

 

"Oui and I lost track of him." Jean-Luc carried the boy into the guestroom and placed him on the bed. "Check on him, Mattie. Olivier will arrive shortly and I want him to examine de boy as well." Olivier was their family doctor and the only physician Jean-Luc trusted. "Where's Henri?"

 

"He left town on Guild matters and will be back in a few days." Mattie sighed. "We should undress him first. Dose dirty and wet clothes will do him no good."

 

Jean-Luc pulled the boy into a sitting position and helped Mattie to take off his sweater. "Mon Dieu..." The boy's ribs showed and Jean-Luc also noticed the needle mark that was showing signs of infection. "He's on drugs."

 

Mattie worked methodically and unzipped the boy's jeans, removing the underwear as well. Seeing the blood and bruising on his buttocks and thighs, she frowned. "Jean? Dis boy was raped."

 

Jean-Luc's eyes grew big. I should never have stolen you from de hospital.

 

"We're gonna give him a bath, deal wit' de infection and see if we can find some soothin' ointment." Mattie grabbed a few towels and headed for the bath tub. After turning on the water, she waited until the tub was full of steamy, warm water. "Jean, put him in de bat' tub."

 

Jean-Luc lifted the boy carefully and carried him into the bathroom where he lowered his charge into the bath tub. Shocked, he stared at the droplets of blood that now clung to his vest. "He's bleedin'... down dere." He didn't know how else to say it. This was a child! No child should have to endure rape!

 

"De petit is badly hurt," Mattie whispered, while washing the boy's bruised body. "Tell Olivier to hurry."

 

Jean-Luc left the room, told his trusted second in command Marcus to contact Olivier and to tell the doctor to hurry up. "Mattie, is dere anythin' I can do?"

 

Mattie was softly humming a tune, stroking the boy's hair. She tried to radiate as much calm and reassurance as she could. "He's special, Jean, you're right 'bout dat."

 

"What are you sensin', Mattie?" He had chosen Mattie as his confidant for many reasons. One of them being that she had telepathic abilities. She could tell his friends from his enemies.

 

"His mind... he's... sensitive, mais he's too young..." Mattie smiled as the boy stirred in the water. "Hand me dose towels, Jean and push back de covers of de bed."

 

Jean-Luc obeyed and helped Mattie dry the boy's skin. After wrapping a towel around his wet hair, he carried the boy back to the bed and laid him down, covering him with soft blankets. "At least he's safe now."

 

"How did you find him?" Mattie nodded gratefully as Marcus handed her a first aid kit. She cleaned the wound the needle had left behind and put a bandage over it. Then she turned her attention to his right wrist. "It's broken," she whispered and bandaged it firmly; it would need a cast later.

 

Suddenly the door opened and a young man marched inside. He was dressed in a gray suit and wore a pair of glasses in a dark frame. "What's going on?"

 

"Olivier, I need you to examine him." Jean-Luc watched as Olivier and Mattie worked on the boy.

 

"He was raped, Jean, and he's using drugs," Olivier muttered beneath his breath after examining his new patient. "Are you sure you want to take a street rat in to your home?"

 

"Oui, I'm sure." Jean-Luc cringed as Olivier gently moved the boy onto his side to examine his lower body.

 

Olivier put on a rubber glove and carefully eased inside the torn rectum. The boy moaned and twitched, trying to get away from the invasive fingertip. "Someone tore him up, Jean." Olivier stared his friend. "Don't tell me you did this."

 

"Non, I didn'," Jean-Luc said quickly. "I found him on de streets." Dazedly, he stared as Mattie held the boy in place while Olivier pushed some antibiotic cream into the boy's abused passage. "He will heal, won' he?"

 

"It's a bit early to tell, Jean." Olivier disposed of the glove. "I'm going to check on him again in twenty-four hours and hopefully the bleeding will have stopped by then, otherwise I have to put in stitches."

 

"His wrist is broken as well," Mattie pointed out to Olivier.

 

"Anything else?" Olivier couldn't believe the amount of damage done to this boy.

 

"What 'bout de drugs? Will he be going through withdrawal?" Jean-Luc already feared the answer.

 

Olivier took some blood samples and studied the boy. "We'll have to wait and see, Jean. I have to get the lab results back from his blood and then... we'll have to see what happens when he wakes up."

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head. "What do we do while we're waitin'?"

 

"Keep him warm," Olivier instructed. "Try to get some fluids into him, water, orange juice, herbal tea, whatever works is fine."

 

"I'll take good care of him," Mattie promised. Tucking the blankets around the boy she began humming again, stroking his hair in a soothing manner.

 

Jean-Luc barely managed to fight back his tears. My fault... It's my fault dat he's dis way... I can never make things up to him...

 

///

 

He was floating on a warm, soft cloud, which cradled his body perfectly. Although the pain was still there, it was bearable and Remy was even tempted to open his eyes while trying to remember what had happened last.

 

Hugo tried to rape me and succeeded, jugin' by de pain... den I found Philippe, dead, and ran onto de streets... tried to pick dis man's pocket, mais he's a friend of de Antiquary. I'm back wi' de old man?

 

The only way to get an answer was to open his eyes. Well, his right eye opened, his left refused to obey. He stared at soft curtains, beige wallpaper and he was lying in a big four poster bed. Non, this wasn't his room at the Antiquary's.

 

He quickly closed his eye again, hearing voices in the distance. Male voices, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. What's de matter wit' you? Get up and run 'fore dey can catch up wit' you! But his body refused to co-operate and something heavy pulled down his right wrist and he lacked the strength to try again.

 

Feeling scared and lost, he panicked. His body tensed, then relaxed again when one voice seemed to grow more distant, then tensed again, hearing footfalls approach. He was on the verge of hyperventilating as the door opened and a stranger stepped inside. "Non..." he whimpered scared and... 

 

He was peeing in the bed! Non, he hadn't wet himself since he was a little kid and the Antiquary had rubbed his nose in his urine to make sure he'd never do it again! "Non..."

 

Jean-Luc hurried to the boy's side, smelling a pungent odor. "C'est bien, petit, happens to all of us, oui?" The boy was curled up on his left side and a damp spot was spreading on the blanket. Merde, now he had to clean up the child! Not that he minded doing the dirty work, but he worried how the boy would react to his touch. "Lemme help, Noir?"

 

"Non, not Noir! Name's Remy, not Noir, never Noir!" Remy hid deeper beneath the blanket, blocking out the stench. "Not Noir, not Noir, Remy..." His voice shook and he tried to regulate his too fast breathing. Was he in trouble now?

 

Jean-Luc recovered quickly. "Mais, oui, Remy it is. Remy? We need to clean you up. You had a petit accident." Uncertain how to proceed, he kneeled beside the bed and slowly peeled off the layers of blankets that hid Remy from view. Remy was pinching his eyes tightly shut. "It's bien, petit. I know 'bout your eyes. Dey don' frighten me. Look at me?"

 

Remy hesitantly opened his eyes, but remained silent. Oui, this was the same man he had seen at the Antiquary's home a few months ago. Can' trust him; he'll take me back... Please don' call me Noir, m'sieur, but he didn't dare speak the words aloud. Feeling ashamed and stupid for wetting himself, he averted his eyes and waited for the man to take the initiative. 

 

"Remy?" Jean-Luc smiled approvingly at the name; he really liked it a lot better than Noir. "I need to clean you up, remember? Why don' we do dat in de bat'room?" Not getting an answer, Jean-Luc eventually pushed back the damp blankets and found that Remy had not only peed, but had had a bowel movement as well. The bloody diarrhea told him that the boy hadn't healed up inside yet and that probably meant that Olivier needed to put in stitches after all. Olivier and Mattie were downstairs in his private medical facility, working on the blood samples and setting up a treatment plan.

 

When the man reached for him, Remy flinched back, trying to avoid the touch. He knew his panic showed on his face, but he couldn't repress the pain and fear that knotted his stomach. I'm a stupid bébé, can' even hold until I can go to de bat'room...

 

Jean-Luc stared at the abused body and drew in a deep steadying breath. Mattie and Olivier had decided against putting Remy in warm clothes because they wanted quick access and now he understood why. Remy was shrinking away from him and Jean-Luc tried to reassure the child, while wrapping his arms around him.

 

"Remy? It was a petit accident. You're not feelin' well, so it's okay when you have accidents. I will just clean you up, put clean sheets and blankets on de bed and den you can go back to sleep, oui?"

 

Frustrated that Remy still wasn't responding, Jean-Luc lifted him in his arms and carried him into the bathroom, where he sat him down on the toilet. Remy swayed briefly, but then seemed to steady himself.

 

Remy closely followed every move the man made and cringed, feeling the urge to pee again. Unable to hold it, he peed and tears flowed down his face. What was happening to him?

 

Jean-Luc had wet a washcloth and wiped the cold sweat from Remy's brow. "You're un peu ill, Remy, mais it will get betta, trust me, petit." Jean-Luc held Remy's eyes when his hand moved lower to clean the boy's groin area.

 

Remy bit his bottom lip until it bled and closed his eyes. Now that the man was touching him, ugly memories returned and he almost bolted from the bathroom, but he was too exhausted to move.

 

"Remy, I've got to do your backside as well," Jean-Luc said softly and turned the boy around. "It still hurts, non, petit?"

 

But Remy didn't react. He wasn't going to give away his weaknesses. Although he had completely tensed up due to his fear, he had to admit it felt good to have his butt cleaned. Peeking at the man kneeling in front of him, he realized the stranger was using baby wipes to clean his butt! It almost made him laugh, almost.

 

Jean-Luc closely monitored Remy's reaction and was relieved when the boy didn't try to get away from him. He collected clean underwear from the pile of clothes Mattie had assembled before leaving with Olivier, claiming that the boy would need clean clothes at least once a day and she had been right. Bless Mattie for knowing what to do!

 

Remy was surprised when the man helped him to step into some briefs and finally he dared to meet he stranger's eyes. Their eyes met, and he quickly looked away again, scared of what he would find in those dark orbs.

 

Jean-Luc considered letting Remy walk back instead of carrying him, but wasn't sure the boy could stay on his feet, so he swept him up into his arms anyway. Remy released a surprised yelp. "I'm gonna put you in de chair while I put some clean sheets on de bed," Jean-Luc told Remy, wanting the boy to know his intentions.

 

Remy flushed when Jean-Luc placed him in the armchair. Sitting upright was putting pressure on his bottom and he moaned in pain, but remained sitting straight nonetheless. He didn't want to anger the man, unsure how the stranger would react.

 

Jean-Luc wasn't good at making small talk, but he tried anyway. "My name's Jean-Luc LeBeau and I brought you home after you tried to pick my pocket."

 

Remy tried to make himself as small as possible, but his bottom hurt and he slumped to the right until he was laying down. Why hadn't the man, Jean-Luc, called the police or alerted the Antiquary? Why was he at the man's home?

 

Jean-Luc removed the damp sheet and blanket, put on clean ones and returned to Remy, who was clutching his stomach with his left hand. "You're probably wonderin' what happened after we met." Jean-Luc lifted Remy in his arms and tucked him back into bed. "We put your right wrist in a cast 'cause it was broken and... Are you doin' drugs, petit?"

 

Drugs? Flashes of Philippe injected the dope washed over him and he shook his head. With tremendous effort he managed an answer. "He made me... only once..." For some reason it was important to him that Jean-Luc knew the truth; that he wasn't a drug addict.

 

"I'm glad to hear dat," Jean Luc whispered, and smiled. "Remy, we need to talk, oui?"

 

But Remy's eyes were slipping shut again. The bed was too warm and too comfortable to not fall asleep. He did manage a nod, however.

 

"Remy, you were raped, oui?" Jean-Luc's heart sped up, seeing the alien eyes flash open in fear and remembered pain. "Oui, I know you were raped, mais... you're still bleedin'... you might need stitches."

 

Inaudible words stumbled from Remy's lips while staring at Jean-Luc. Were they going to hurt him all over again? Did the nightmare never end?

 

"I asked my personal doctor to take care of you, Remy. Olivier will look after you, don' be scared." Suddenly, he remembered the doctor's advice. "Wanna drink somethin'? I got some freshly pressed orange juice." He sat down on the side of the bed and picked up the glass, noticing Remy's hungry stare. He was stunned when the boy shook his head, indicating he didn't want to drink. "Mais petit, you're dehydrated!"

 

But no, he couldn't drink anything! What if he wet himself again? For some reason he didn't have any control over his lower body and he wanted to avoid creating another mess Jean-Luc would have to clean up. Although he craved the orange juice, he had to decline.

 

But Jean-Luc realized the truth. "Don' worry 'bout peein' in bed 'gain, petit. We'll clean you up, dat's no big deal. Jus' drink... please?" Jean-Luc placed the glass at Remy's lips and the boy sipped slowly.

 

"Finish it, petit, you need de fluids." Jean-Luc held the boy tight, feeling shivers rack Remy's body. "Now dat's a good boy," he said, while helping Remy lie down again. "Go back to sleep, petit." If everything went to plan, Olivier would return in a few minutes, give the boy a sedative so Remy slept through the surgery. He was sure Remy wouldn't want to be awake when Olivier examined his abused rectum and put in the stitches.

 

Remy's eyes remained locked on Jean-Luc. Why was the man helping him? Or did he have ulterior motives like nursing him back to health and then hand him over to the Antiquary? Or did the man want his ass for himself?

 

"Sleep, petit, I promise everythin' will be bon in de end." Jean-Luc absentmindedly stroked Remy's auburn hair and listened as the boy's breathing evened out, indicating he had fallen asleep. Burying his head in his hands, Jean-Luc stared at the bundle of misery in front of him. He was to blame for the boy's misery. This was all his fault!

 

"Jean? We're ready to work on him." Olivier entered the room and rested a hand on his friend's shoulder. "What aren't you telling me? Who raped him?"

 

"I don' know, I don' t'ink even Remy does. Olivier, dis chile is very precious to me... I want him whole and healed."

 

"I can't make that promise," Olivier said thoughtfully. "The boy has been traumatized and has a long road of recovery ahead of him. He'll need a friend though." Olivier pushed back the blankets and removed the briefs Jean-Luc had just put on the boy. "I need to stop the bleeding and repair the tears."

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head. "Mais I will carry him."

 

Olivier didn't object, noticing that Jean-Luc's vest already sported stains of blood. "Then let's do this. Mattie will assist me."

 

They headed downstairs where Mattie was already waiting for them. Jean-Luc placed Remy on the exam table and caressed the auburn hair one more time. "Be careful, be gentle."

 

Mattie smiled reassuringly. "You know we will, Jean."

 

Jean nodded his head, realized he was keeping them from their job and left to pace the corridor, waiting for the word that everything had gone well and that he could take Remy back to his room. I'll try to make things up to you, I promise, petit.

 

///

 

"Everything went well," Olivier informed Jean-Luc as he placed his patient back in the big four poster bed. "I hooked him up to an IV because he needs fluids."

 

"When will he wake up 'gain?" Jean-Luc asked, as Mattie covered the boy with warm blankets.

 

"In a few hours' time, Jean. He's exhausted and I want him to catch up on his sleep. There might be some nightmares," Olivier warned Jean-Luc.

 

"What do I do?" Jean-Luc pulled the armchair closer to the bed and sat down, studying Remy's face.

 

Olivier licked his lips. "I don't know if he'll allow you to touch him. He might suffer flashbacks from the rape and who knows what other things he was subjected to in his young life. You need to be patient."

 

"Jean and I will take turns sittin' wit' de chile," Mattie said, smiling at Jean-Luc. "He'll heal."

 

"I hope so." Jean-Luc took Remy's left hand in his, stroking the cold skin, but stayed clear of the IV needle.

 

"I suggest you ask your cook to prepare some soup. Chicken noodle soup is usually the patient's favorite." Olivier checked Remy's vital signs again. "And he'll probably have trouble going to the bathroom for a time. His organs are a bit bruised and he doesn't have any bowel control."

 

"We'll clean him up when he has an accident," Jean-Luc assured Olivier.

 

"I'll stay in close contact," Olivier said, while slipping back into his coat. "Make sure he rests, eats and drinks. He's young and should make a full recovery. Also try to find him a good councilor, Jean, he'll need help to deal with the rape."

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head. "I'll look into it."

 

Mattie walked Olivier to the front door, but Jean-Luc remained at Remy's side. The boy moved slightly, searching for a more comfortable position and moaned softly. Jean-Luc stroked the soft skin of Remy's face, staying clear of any bruises and sighed deeply. "Remy, I know you can' hear me, mais I wanna promise you somethin'. From dis day on you're my chile, mon fils..."

 

///

 

He was hurting, but the pain wasn't as bad as it used to be. Remy even tried to stretch, but froze as pain rose from his lower body, climbing to his stomach.

 

"Don' move, petit. You jus' had surgery."

 

The woman's voice surprised him and he opened his eyes to find out who was talking to him. "Oh..." fled his lips, seeing the shiny beads in the woman's dark hair. The beads reflected the sunlight and sent sparkles through the room.

 

"Bonjour, petit, I'm tante..." She smiled and brushed a few stray locks of hair from his face. "You're Remy, oui?"

 

He nodded his head; unable to speak. Her dark eyes laughed at him and she radiated peace and warmth, two things which he had never experienced before. I like her... Mon Dieu, I like her.

 

"I made you some chicken noodle soup," Mattie announced. "De doctor recommended it."

 

Remy's nose twitched, smelling the delicious fragrance. His stomach growled and he averted his eyes.

 

"You need to sit up first..." Mattie collected two pillows from the small couch in the corner of the room and helped Remy lean forward while pushing the pillows behind his back. "Bien?" She helped him lie back and studied his eyes. The boy seemed content.

 

Remy nodded his head once and watched as the bowl, filled with hot soup, came into view. He tried to reach out and grab it, but stared at the heavy cast around his right wrist. When had that happened?

 

Mattie smiled, took hold of the spoon and leaned in closer. "Open up, petit. I made dis soup myself so you'd betta like it!" she teased.

 

Remy swallowed the first spoonful eagerly, but then froze. What if he peed in his bed again?

 

"Eat, chile. I'll help you visit de bathroom after you emptied de soup. Don' worry 'bout a thing, bien?"

 

Remy blushed, ashamed that she had guessed his thoughts. He swallowed the rest of the soup obediently, watching her closely.

 

"You like ol' Mattie Baptiste, non?" She laughed warmly and put the empty bowl onto the nightstand. "Wanna visit de bat'room now?"

 

He didn't want to leave the warm bed, but nodded his head nonetheless. He would die of embarrassment if he peed in bed again! Mattie pushed down the blankets and he tried to rise from the bed, but his eyes grew big, and he clutched his stomach in pain.

 

"I know it hurts, petit, mais it'll get betta," she promised and helped him to his feet. Slowly, she guided him into the bathroom. "Want tante to help you pee?"

 

Remy shook his head. He could manage himself! Thankfully, tante stepped outside and after struggling to push down his briefs, he sat down on the toilet, relieving himself.

 

"Petit? Are you done? I'm comin' back inside."

 

Remy quickly pulled his briefs back in place and tried to rise to his feet, but vertigo made him sway.

 

"Don' worry, tante's got you." Mattie smiled. "You done here?"

 

Remy nodded his head and allowed her to support him back to the bed where he collapsed amidst the pillows and hiding beneath the blankets. Closing his eyes, he wondered why he felt this tired, but as he dozed off, he only felt pleasantly warm.

 

///

 

"How's de petit doin'?" Jean-Luc had slept several hours and was now ready to relieve Mattie. It was his time to sit with Remy.

 

"He's eaten some soup," Mattie informed him as she got to her feet. "He's been sleepin' for de last few hours, mais I can feel him wakin' up 'ready." At times like these, her telepathy came in handy. "Try to win his trust, Jean. He needs a père more dan anythin'."

 

"I'll try," Jean-Luc vowed. "What 'bout..."

 

"His stitches? Olivier checked on him one hour ago and Remy's doin' bien. He needs rest and food."

 

"Olivier was here and I didn' notice?"

 

"We let you sleep, figurin' you needed it," Mattie teased, knowing darn well that Jean-Luc would sit with the boy for the next twelve hours. "I'm gonna catch up on my beauty sleep."

 

Mattie left the room and Jean-Luc took his place at the boy's side.

 

///

 

Hugo was back in his room, chasing him, throwing him down on the bed and... "Arrgghh," Remy screamed, tried to sit upright, but cringed as a now familiar pain assaulted him. His eyes searched the dimly lit room, and he felt thankful for his unholy eyes, enabling him to see in the dark. A man... a man rose from a chair and approached him. I've got to get 'way from him!

 

He crawled on all fours, fell off of the bed and landed hard on the floor. The man hovered above him, was talking to him, but the words made no sense and he tried to put more distance between them. "Don' touch! Don' touch!"

 

Shocked, Jean-Luc stared at Remy, who was huddled in the corner, motionless and eyeing him with big, burning orbs. "Petit, Remy, you're safe. You're at my home... Petit, do you hear me?" He sat on his heels in front of the boy, following Olivier's advice to not touch Remy. "Why don' you lie back down in your bed? You must be cold here on de floor." Mon Dieu, what if Remy had pulled his stitches and was bleeding again? Why wasn't Mattie here to soothe the boy?

 

Jean-Luc's words chased away the memories and Remy suddenly recognized the man who was taking care of him. Eyeing Jean-Luc, he tried to form a sentence, a plea to leave him alone, but his lips were frozen. He raised his left hand instead, trying to place it against Jean-Luc's chest, but misjudged the distance and it dropped to the floor. "M'sieur, are you real?"

 

Jean-Luc smiled. Remy was finally talking; the boy's silence had worried him. "Oui, I'm real. I'm Jean-Luc LeBeau," he repeated. "And you're my guest."

 

Remy looked about, remembering the room from the last few times he had woken up. "Dis your bedroom?"

 

"Non, it's one of de guest rooms." Jean-Luc carefully planned his next move. "Are you cold, petit?"

 

"Oui." Dazedly, Remy tried to recall why he was sitting on the floor.

 

"You had a nightmare..." Jean-Luc reminded him. He was tempted to put his arms around Remy, but knew it would only terrify the boy so he kept his distance instead.

 

"Oui, Hugo was chasin' me..." Remy licked his lips. The cold was penetrating his bones and he managed to push himself to his feet by using the wall to support himself.

 

"Who's Hugo?" Jean-Luc moved as well, ready to catch Remy in case the boy fainted.

 

"He paid five-hundred dollars for my ass." Remy collapsed on the bed, hoping Jean-Luc would stay at a distance; he couldn't stand anyone's touch right now. Squirming, he managed to pull the blankets up to his shoulders.

 

"Hugo..." Jean-Luc filed the name away for later when he would try to hunt the bastard down. "Remy?" He sat down again and found that the boy was still staring at him. "What do you remember?"

 

"Everyt'in'," Remy whispered. "You gonna hand me over to de Antiquary?"

 

"Non," Jean-Luc quickly assured him. "I want you to stay here wit' Mattie and me."

 

"I like Mattie," Remy admitted, shyly. His mouth was growing dry and there was some orange juice in the glass sitting on the nightstand.

 

Jean-Luc followed Remy's glance and picked up the glass, encouraging Remy to drink. The boy emptied the glass and Jean-Luc wondered what to say next now that Remy was talking to him. "You're welcome here, petit."

 

"Merci..." Remy privately wondered about Jean-Luc's price. Well, he would find out in time. Maybe he had only escaped Hugo to fall prey to this man.

 

"Remy..." Jean-Luc suddenly grew speechless. Now that the boy was awake, he didn't know what to say. "Is dere anythin' I can do?"

 

Remy nodded his head; he could worry about the price later. "Bury Philippe."

 

Jean-Luc frowned. "Who's Philippe?"

 

"We were livin' together." Remy briefly closed his eyes. "When I woke up Philippe was dead. Would you pay for a decent funeral? I don' have de money to pay for it, mais I can work it off."

 

You're offerin' yourself to me so I'll pay for your friend's funeral? Mon Dieu! "Do you have an address?"

 

"We lived at 14 Canal Street, m'sieur. Top floor. De cops probably found him 'ready, mais... he helped me... please, m'sieur?" He couldn't bear the thought of Philippe not getting a final resting place, being cremated instead and his ashes scattered; but what if they had already cremated the body?

 

Jean-Luc watched Remy sob softly and briefly stepped outside to talk to one of his men, who promised to take care of the matter. When Jean-Luc returned to Remy's side, the boy was silent again and had wiped the tears from his eyes. "Philippe will get a decent funeral," he promised.

 

"Merci, m'sieur. I'll pay you back somehow..." Exhausted, Remy's eyes met Jean-Luc's. "I'll pay your price, m'sieur."

 

"Dere's no price," Jean-Luc assured him, but caught the shivers that washed over the boy's body. "Why don' you go back to sleep, petit?"

 

"Don' wanna face de nightmares 'gain, m'sieur..." Remy shifted in the bed. "Why am I still hurtin'... down dere?"

 

"We had to put in stitches," Jean-Luc reminded him. "You'll feel sore for a few days, Remy."

 

Remy stared at the ceiling. "Dere are angels on de ceilin'," he whispered, surprised.

 

Jean-Luc smiled. "Oui. Do you like lookin' at dem?"

 

"Dey seem so happy," Remy mumbled, cocking his head. "Dey are laughin' ...and dey're fat."

 

Jean-Luc laughed warmly. "Oui, dey're fat... and you're too skinny, petit. You need to put on some weight... wanna eat somethin'?"

 

Remy wondered if he had misunderstood. "Jus' had some chicken noodle soup." He had never eaten this much before.

 

"Do you like croissants, Remy?"

 

"Oui, mais..." He had never had the money to buy them.

 

"I'll back in a few seconds," Jean-Luc announced and headed for the kitchen. When he returned to Remy's room, he proudly presented the full tray to his guest. "Remy?" he whispered the name, then realized the boy was asleep. He put the tray down next to the bed and sat down, determined Remy would eat something when he woke next.

 

///

 

Three days later

 

"Olivier?" Jean-Luc held his breath as his friend examined Remy. Remy was still blissfully asleep and didn't even notice the doctor checking on him.

 

"He's doing as well as can be expected. Keep feeding him. The boy's too small for his age." Olivier smiled and stepped outside with Jean-Luc. "What about the nightmares?"

 

"He's had dem frequently dese last three days. He won' let me touch him, mais once he realizes it's me or Mattie he calms down." Three days had passed by since he had found Remy and the boy had slept most of the time.

 

"He'll want to get up soon and walk around a bit."

 

"Can he?" Jean-Luc made sure the door was ajar and kept a close eye on Remy.

 

"Short trips, yes. Does he still complain of a stomach ache?"

 

"Non, and he's gettin' betta at holdin' it until he reached de bathroom. He's healin'."

 

Olivier nodded his head, pleased. "I've seldom seen someone recover this quickly. Maybe it's something in his genes, being a mutant?"

 

"Mebbe," Jean-Luc agreed. "I'm relieved he didn' have to go through withdrawal."

 

"If he only used Crack once..." Olivier's brow grew knitted. "I still can't believe his friend injected him against his will!"

 

"And yet he asked me to give Philippe a decent burial."

 

"Did you do it?"

 

"Oui." Jean-Luc noticed that Remy was stirring and wanted to return to the boy's side. "When will you check on him 'gain?"

 

"Tomorrow. I can let myself out. Go, sit with the boy."

 

Jean-Luc smiled, grateful that his friend understood his need to look after the boy and he returned to Remy's room.

 

///

 

Remy opened his eyes and found the chair empty for the first time. Either Mattie or Jean-Luc had been sitting there these last few days. Guess it's over now... dey grew tired lookin' after me...

 

"Ah, petit, awake again?"

 

Remy's eyes brightened, seeing Jean-Luc hurry to his bedside. "Oui, m'sieur and I need to use de bat'room." With Jean-Luc's help he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He was getting better and could walk short distances... mais I still need help.

 

He quickly relieved himself, tried to wash his hand, cursed the caste and returned to his room. After settling back down in bed, something hard poked him in his ribs. "A book, m'sieur?" Merde, he couldn't read, but couldn't admit that to Jean-Luc.

 

"It's 'Sans Famille' by Hector Malot. I thought you might wanna read it as de main character's name is Rémi and de two of you got some things in common." Why wasn't the boy showing more interest in the book? He had thought Remy would welcome the distraction now that he was feeling better but still confined to bed.

 

Remy cautiously opened the book and stared helplessly at the millions of letters that danced in front of his eyes. He couldn't admit to Jean-Luc that he couldn't read; it would reveal a weakness and he didn't trust the man enough yet to expose himself like that. While flipping the pages awkwardly he found a drawing, showing an old man and a young boy and he wondered why Jean-Luc had brought him the book.

 

Jean-Luc suddenly realized the boy's problem. He had been so convinced that Remy could read that he had never considered asking before giving him the book. "You can' read, non?"

 

Remy flinched, embarrassed. "No one ever taught me, m'sieur." He put the book back down on the bed and lowered his eyes, waiting for Jean-Luc's reaction; he had obviously disappointed the man and he couldn't figure out why it meant so much to him to make Jean-Luc proud of him! He barely knew the man!

 

Jean-Luc felt guilty for making Remy feel ashamed and picked up the book again. "I can teach you how to read and write," he offered.

 

"Merci, m'sieur, mais I ain' smart 'nough to learn."

 

Jean-Luc cringed, hearing the self loathing in Remy's tone. "Nonsense, I'll teach you."

 

"Don' bother, m'sieur. I won' be 'round much longer anyway."

 

Jean-Luc cast caution to the wind and sat down on the side of Remy's bed, ignoring the nervousness in the alien eyes as he cupped the boy's face in his hand. "You plannin' on leavin', petit?"

 

"I'm really grateful dat you took care of me, m'sieur, mais I know I can' stay. Dis is a bon home, not meant for street rats like me." One big tear flowed down his cheek. "I'll pay you back, m'sieur, don' know how yet, mais I will."

 

Jean-Luc took a deep breath to steady himself. He was trembling himself, while trying to radiate calm and reassurance. "You'll stay here, Remy. Forget 'bout leavin'. Don' even think about tryin' to pay me back." How could he convince Remy that his intentions were honest?

 

"Oui, m'sieur," Remy said, mechanically, but there was one more thing he needed to know. "Philippe?"

 

Oui, dat's it! Jean-Luc realized his chance. "Wanna visit his grave?"

 

"Can we?" Remy's eyes grew clouded. Had Jean-Luc kept his promise and given his friend a last resting place?

 

"Oui, we can." Jean-Luc rose to his feet. He had finally found a way to get through to Remy. "I'll ask Mattie to dress you in warm clothes and den we'll visit Philippe's grave, oui?"

 

Remy gave him a sad smile. "Oui, m'sieur."

 

///

 

"You'd betta listen to Monsieur LeBeau, chile. Don' run off, he'll find you within de hour, understood?" Mattie wrapped a thick scarf around Remy's throat, put a mitten on his left hand and adjusted the sling that supported his broken wrist beneath the thick coat he was wearing.

 

Remy was feeling warm. Tante had dressed him in a shirt, a sweater, vest, jeans, woolen socks and warm boots. The thick coat reached to his ankles and he had never felt this warm before. "I'll listen to m'sieur LeBeau," he promised tante and took a first tentative step. Relieved that he no longer felt sore, he took another step and another... he was walking on his own and smiled, reaching the front door. He had made it on his own!

 

"Bravo, petit," Jean-Luc complimented him and then carefully wrapped an arm around Remy, ready to pull back in case the boy flinched away from his touch. But Remy was way too happy to be out of bed and walking again to notice Jean-Luc's closeness.

 

Remy panted slightly. After being horizontal for the last few days he even felt lightheaded, but welcomed the sensation for it meant that he was getting better.

 

Jean-Luc guided Remy to the black Sedan and helped him slip into the back seat. He sat down beside the boy and kept a close eye on him. A blush had settled on Remy's cheeks and he didn't know if it was due to excitement or exhaustion. "You must care a great deal for dis Philippe," he started, trying to get Remy to talk.

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "I used to... in de beginnin', when we'd jus' met."

 

Remy had been remarkably quiet about his escape from the Antiquary's home and Jean-Luc hoped Remy felt comfortable enough to tell him what had happened. "I remember dere was a huge cloud of smoke." He decided against telling Remy just yet that he had instigated the incident.

 

"Oui, a lot of smoke," Remy said, his thoughts traveling back in time to the day he had escaped. "I had to move quickly and ran 'way, ended up on de streets and... I never knew dere was anot'er life beside de one I had wit' de Antiquary. A cop tried to take me to de hospital, I guess 'cause I looked lost, mais I ran, couldn' trust him, you see. Den I met Philippe. He was a hustler and a drug addict, mais I didn' know dat yet. He took me to a shelter and dere was dis nice lady called Marie. She gave me clean clothes, mais den I overheard her sayin' dat she was gonna contact de Antiquary and I had to run 'gain... I found Philippe and he took me in."

 

Jean-Luc listened, breathlessly, as Remy finally let everything out. He should have searched harder. "And Philippe took good care of you?"

 

Remy laughed, embittered. "Non... oui... well, he talked up de johns and I sucked dem off for money... dey told me I got a talented mout'... Philippe needed more dope and I got more johns... He shot me up once and I didn' want to be high, mais he didn' listen..." Remy's breath hitched uncontrollably.

 

Jean-Luc realized the worst was yet to come. "Remy?"

 

"Some john offered him five-hundred dollars if Philippe let him fuck me. Philippe was my pimp and he accepted... I was still fightin' off de drugs when he flipped me onto my stomach..." Tears were running down Remy's cheeks and he licked them from his lips.

 

"I must have passed out and when I woke up 'gain, Philippe was dead... The john probably wanted his money back 'cause I passed out... Dat's when I decided to run 'way 'gain and tried to steal your wallet."

 

Shocked, Jean-Luc stared at Remy, who had stopped crying. Remy had wrapped one arm around his waist and was rocking hard. "Petit, I'm so sorry," he whispered, wondering how he could help this lost soul.

 

"Dat's what Philippe said... I t'ink... I remember hearin' him say dat..." Determinedly, Remy wiped away his tears and stared outside. "He was de only friend I had."

 

Jean-Luc quickly wiped away his own tears, which he had hidden from Remy. Mon Dieu, it's even worse dan I thought. He was alone and tried to survive de only way he could.

 

"I ain' even sure why I ran 'way. Oui, de Antiquary hurt me as well, mais... I didn' have to sell myself to stay 'live."

 

"In what way did de Antiquary hurt you?" Jean-Luc wanted to know what had made Remy run away in the first place. "Did he sexually assault you?"

 

Remy chuckled, coldly. "When Philippe told me about rape, I thought de Antiquary had raped me... In a way de old man did, mais he raped my mind. He invaded my mind, took what he wanted, needed, drained me and..." Remy's voice was devoid of any emotions. "I wanna see Philippe's grave."

 

Jean-Luc looked outside and realized they had arrived. The car stopped, parked and he opened the door so Remy could get out first. He followed quickly and walked Remy to a newly dug grave in the corner of the cemetery.

 

Feeling tired, Remy raised his head and looked at the grave. Jean-Luc had even put up a tombstone.

 

"I only knew his first name," Jean-Luc said apologetically.

 

"I don' know his last name eit'er," Remy admitted. The tombstone looked empty with only the one name on it. "Can you add somet'in' to de tombstone?" Remy asked in a tiny tone, not wanting to infringe on his generous savior.

 

"What do you want it to say, Remy?" Jean-Luc sat on his heels and looked into Remy's watering eyes.

 

"Here lies Philippe," Remy started, searching for the right words... "Non, just put up 'Regrets and forgiveness'. Would you do dat, m'sieur?"

 

"Mais oui, Remy. We'll come back when de tombstone has been changed, oui?"

 

"And some flowers for his grave? It looks so... empty... uncared for..." Remy took a few steps away from Jean-Luc and clawed at the earth that covered Philippe's coffin. "Mebbe we can plant some forget-me-nots? I t'ink he would have liked dat."

 

Remy's form began to crumble and Jean-Luc moved quickly, catching the fainting boy. Visiting Philippe's grave had proved too much for the drained child. He carried Remy back to the car, making a mental note to make the changes Remy had asked for. The next time they visited the grave the words would have been added to the tombstone and forget-me-nots planted on the grave.

 

Cradling Remy's body in his arms, he slipped into the back seat and told his driver to hurry home.

 

///

 

"How's de petit doin?'" Mattie entered the room and came to a stop just behind Jean-Luc, looking at Remy as well.

 

"He collapsed," Jean-Luc said, thoughtfully. "Mattie, will he recover?"

 

Mattie stepped in front of him, blocking his view of Remy. "Physically, oui."

 

"And emotionally?"

 

"It's hard to say, Jean. He's been hurt so bad..." Mattie caught Jean's eyes. "Can you be a fat'er to him? For de rest of his life? He'll need you so bad."

 

"I can do dat," Jean-Luc said resolved.

 

Mattie nodded her head. "Den listen carefully, Jean. De chile has de gift."

 

"De gift?" Jean-Luc started a little. "Are you tellin' me he's a telepath?"

 

"Non, not a telepath... but his mind is strong. His mind is special. Use it to get through to him. You'll have to bide your time until his powers reveal demselves."

 

"What 'bout de Antiquary?"

 

"I talked to him," Mattie revealed. "He still wants de chile back, but is too weak to cross you right now. Be 'ware of de snake, Jean, or he'll take de chile 'way from you."

 

"I'll guard Remy." Jean-Luc stroked the soft hair and smiled. "Welcome home, mon fils."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter five.

Discoveries.

 

Several days later, Remy sneaked through the LeBeau mansion, still trying to draw as little attention as possible. So many things had happened since he had visited Philippe's grave. Jean-Luc had kept his word and had had the writing on the tombstone changed, adding some forget-me-nots as well. He had sobbed softly when they had visited the grave yesterday.

 

Now he was beginning to feel at home here and that scared him. He had never felt this cherished and welcome before and he was waiting for Jean-Luc and Mattie to throw him out. As he walked down the corridor, he headed for Jean-Luc's study. Jean-Luc had assured him that he could visit whenever he wanted and he had never seen a study before.

 

It felt liberating to be finally able to walk on his own. Although he still felt dizzy at times, he was recovering and the only thing that annoyed him was his cast. The skin beneath it itched terribly!

 

Remembering his manners, Remy knocked on the door and waited for Jean-Luc's answer.

 

"Oui?"

 

"It's Remy, m'sieur," he said softly, wondering if this was a good idea after all.

 

"Come inside, mon fils."

 

Remy cringed at hearing those last two words. He really didn't understand why Jean-Luc called him son. Cautiously, he looked inside. "I can go 'way 'gain," he offered, seeing Jean-Luc reading some papers.

 

"Non, petit. I 'ways enjoy your company." Jean-Luc put the papers aside and gestured Remy to approach. It was the first time the boy had taken the initiative and it pleased him that Remy was growing more confident.

 

Soundlessly, Remy walked over to the couch in the corner of the study, his eyes always on Jean-Luc. When he sat down, he jumped up again as an angry growl echoed through the room. Remy froze in his tracks, scared to look down at what was causing the growls. "Sorry, m'sieur, didn' know, didn' look..."

 

"Remy, meet Napoleon," Jean-Luc chuckled, walked over to the couch and picked up the big, fat, orange tomcat. Napoleon usually disliked strangers, but he hoped the tomcat would make an exception for Remy. As far as he knew Remy had never had a pet before and maybe the boy would like taking care of Napoleon. Please behave, he pleaded privately as he petted Napoleon.

 

Remy's big eyes betrayed his surprise and nervousness. He'd seen cats and dogs before, even rats and mice in the building where he and Philippe had lived, but this cat was huge! Shuffling his feet, he wondered what Jean-Luc expected him to do. He hid his hands behind his back, makin sure he couldn't knock anything over accidentally.

 

"Would you like to pet him?" Jean-Luc watched Remy's face, seeing hope and uncertainty battle there and he wondered which would be victorious.

 

"Would like to, m'sieur, mais I don' t'ink he'll let me." The cat looked majestic, staring at him suspiciously.

 

"Remy, sit down." Jean-Luc waited until Remy had made himself comfortable and then walked over to him. "Open your arms."

 

"What 'bout de cast, m'sieur? He won' like dat..." Remy's voice sounded tiny and nervous.

 

Jean-Luc sat down beside Remy and waited for the boy to extend his arms. Slowly, hoping Napoleon would co-operate, he placed the tomcat in Remy's arms. The boy's eyes turned impossibly huge, feeling the soft fur and weight settle on his lap.

 

"He's heavy, m'sieur." Remy didn't dare move, afraid the cat would leap off his lap again. Cocking his head, he tried to catch the cat's blue eyes. Nervously, he licked his lips.

 

Jean-Luc smiled, took hold of Remy's left hand and rested it on Napoleon's head. "He likes it when you rub behind his ears."

 

"He's gonna jump off my lap, m'sieur!" Why would such a magnificent cat want to stay?

 

Seeing Napoleon stretch on the boy's lap, Jean-Luc felt confident that the tomcat accepted Remy. "Rub behind his ears," he repeated encouragingly.

 

Gingerly, Remy touched the silky fur and then Napoleon's head. "He's soft, m'sieur."

 

Napoleon leaned into the touch and Remy rubbed behind his ears as Jean-Luc had told him. The fur was one of the most amazing things he'd ever felt, so soft, so warm. Cautiously, he tried to pull Napoleon closer to his chest to cuddle the cat.

 

Jean-Luc briefly held his breath, hoping Napoleon truly accepted Remy as part of the family. The tomcat didn't disappoint him; Napoleon began to purr luxuriously, pushing his head against Remy's hand, urging the boy to continue stroking his head.

 

A huge smile flashed across Remy's features. "He's stayin'... why?" He wanted to never let go of Napoleon, to carry the cat with him wherever he went, even hold him during the night, but Napoleon would never allow it so he treasured these rare moments.

 

"He likes you, Remy," Jean-Luc said pleased and ruffled the boy's hair. However, Remy flinched away and he quickly broke the contact, studying the boy instead. "I like you too, Remy."

 

Remy tightened his hold on the cat. This was it; the moment he'd feared all along! "You like me? What's your pleasure, m'sieur? Want me to suck you off or..." Remy felt silent as Jean-Luc jumped to his feet and marched back to his desk. "M'sieur?"

 

"Don' you ever offer yourself to me 'gain, Remy! I'm not a john and you're not a hustler, understood?"

 

Remy shrunk back, pulled up his knees and crushed Napoleon against his chest. The tomcat mewed in protest, but didn't try to claw his way out. "Sorry, m'sieur, I t'ought... I don' understand... why else are you helpin' me?"

 

Staring into Remy's clueless eyes, Jean-Luc sighed. He should have known better, should have controlled his anger, which wasn't aimed at Remy, but at himself for failing the boy when he had only been a helpless baby. Slowly, giving Remy time to compose himself, he returned to the couch and sat on his heels in front of Remy. Poor Napoleon... Remy was crushing the tomcat against his chest and the fact that Napoleon allowed it surprised him.

 

"Remy, you can ease your hold on Napoleon. He isn' leavin'." Jean-Luc desperately searched for the right words.

 

Shocked, Remy realized that he was slowly suffocating Napoleon and let go abruptly. The tomcat dropped from his lap, but landed on his feet, licking his fur. Remy didn't believe his eyes when Napoleon jumped back onto his lap and began to massage his belly with his paws. "What's he doin', m'sieur?"

 

Jean-Luc felt relieved now that the emotional storm had passed. Remy was completely focused on the cat and had seemingly forgotten about their argument. "He t'inks your his mère. Cats continue to do dis even after dey left deir litter."

 

"It...tickles," Remy chuckled softly.

 

"Remy, did you ever have a pet?"

 

"Pet, m'sieur?" Remy avoided Jean-Luc's eyes. Hopefully Jean-Luc wouldn't remember what they had been discussing originally because he felt ashamed for thinking Jean-Luc wanted a blowjob as payment for his care. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

 

"Oui, a pet. Napoleon is my pet. I look after him, feed him, pet him... would you like to take over for me? Napoleon needs a lot of attention and I'm busy workin' most of de time." Remy's big eyes told him he had hit bull's eye. "You would like dat, oui?" Poor Napoleon. Sorry, mon ami, Remy will not easily let go now he has a hold on you. But Napoleon's wise expression reassured him. It was like the cat knew Remy needed him.

 

"Can I, m'sieur? I'll take bon care of him... will feed him, pet him..." Remy was rambling and his eyes flared bright red, then dampened again. "Mais non, I can' do dat. He's yours, m'sieur."

 

"He's our pet, Remy, oui?" Jean-Luc gave Remy a look filled with hope. "Please accept dis li'l gift from me to you?"

 

Remy nodded his head weakly and felt like he needed to apologize. "I'm sorry, m'sieur."

 

"Why are you sorry?" Jean-Luc carefully watched Remy rub behind Napoleon's ears.

 

"For t'inkin' dat you... dat you wanted me to... suck you off... to pay you back... I jus' don' understand why you're takin' care of me." Remy bowed his head in defeat, closed his eyes and concentrated on cuddling the tomcat. "I'm still scared you'll hand me over to de Antiquary or t'row me out onto de streets 'gain. I can' believe I'm dis lucky."

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head once. "I understand, Remy, I really do, mais dis is for real, oui?" One day I'll have to tell you dat I stole you from de hospital and delivered you into de Antiquary's hands, mais not yet. You need to gain strength first.

 

A comfortable silence descended on the study and Jean-Luc found that Remy's eyes were closing. "Are you tired, Remy?"

 

"A petit peu, m'sieur. It's been de first time I left my room on my own..." Until now either tante or Jean-Luc had helped him getting around. "Mais I don' wanna leave Nappie yet."

 

"Nappie?" Jean-Luc raised an eyebrow, but the dignified tomcat seemed to accept the nickname as he licked Remy's left hand. "Why don' you take him wit' you?"

 

"Can' walk and carry him at de same time, m'sieur. I would drop him..." Remy yawned and rested his head against the cushions. Rain was crashing against the window and he smiled, melancholy. "I hate rain."

 

"You do?" Jean-Luc picked up Napoleon and put him on the floor. Then he lifted Remy in his arms and carried the sleepy boy back to his room. Napoleon followed and jumped onto Remy's bed when Jean-Luc put the boy in its center. Knowing that Remy didn't want him to undress him, Jean-Luc simply covered him with a blanket. He had tried undressing Remy once when he had been half asleep and the boy had started fighting him, reliving some horrid memories.

 

Napoleon curled up beside Remy and the boy wrapped his arms around the tomcat. "Poor Napoleon," Jean-Luc whispered.

 

"I heard dat... want him back?" Remy failed to open his eyes. Napoleon radiated heat and made him feel warm from the inside. It was like the tomcat was inside his mind, but this time he didn't shrink back in fear like when the Antiquary had drained him. Napoleon felt warm, and a protective blanket wrapped itself around his thoughts, luring him into relaxation.

 

"It's startin' Jean."

 

Jean-Luc startled hearing Mattie's voice. He hadn't heard her enter the room. "What is?"

 

"His powers... I don' think he's a telepath," Mattie said, walking over to the bed and stroking Remy's hair. "An empath mebbe."

 

"Empath?" Frowning, Jean-Luc's gaze shifted from Remy to Mattie. "Can you teach him how to control his power?"

 

"I can try," Mattie whispered, smiling. "He's a good chile, Jean. Stop worryin'. Remy will be fine."

 

"I hope so." Jean-Luc released a sigh and left Remy's room, giving Mattie and Remy some privacy as she started undressing the boy. I really hope so, Mattie. Remy's been so badly hurt... so badly... can our love heal him? Jean-Luc looked over his shoulder and found that Remy was sound asleep. I'll love you so much that you'll have to heal, Remy. I won' fail you' gain.

 

///

 

Jean-Luc hugged Henri, welcoming his son home at last. Henri had been away on Guild matters and it had taken him longer than expected to wrap everything up in New York. "Mon fils, it's good to have you back."

 

Henri smiled as well and patted his father's back. "It's good to be back!"

 

Jean-Luc and Henri walked to his study and the first thing Henri noticed was Napoleon's absence. "Did somethin' happen to Napoleon while I was 'way?"

 

"Sit down, Henri. I need to tell you some things." Jean-Luc filled two glasses with Bourbon and handed his son one. "About four months ago we tried to sprin' de chile with de alien eyes, remember?"

 

"Oui." Henri sipped his Bourbon. "And we failed. What's got dis to do with Napoleon?"

 

"I ran into de boy a week ago. He's been stayin' with me ever since. Napoleon kinda adopted de boy."

 

Henri was surprised, but managed to hide it. "What are your plans regardin' de boy?" His father had never told him why he wanted to free the child, he had just followed Jean-Luc's orders. He trusted his father to have good reasons for taking the boy as his protégé.

 

"I wanna adopt him." Jean-Luc watched his son carefully.

 

"Adopt him?" Henri put his glass down and began pacing the study. "Dat's a big step. Why?"

 

"I owe Remy big time."

 

"Remy?"

 

"Dat's de name he gave himself," Jean-Luc explained. "He hated de name de Antiquary had given him."

 

"You want to make dis official?" Henri considered everything he had heard and wondered what hold the boy had over his father.

 

"Oui." Jean-Luc walked over to his son and rested his hand on Henri's shoulder. "Lemme tell you what he's been through. Mebbe den you'll understand." They sat down on the couch and Jean-Luc told his son what had happened to Remy after the boy had escaped the Antiquary.

 

///

 

Henri studied Remy closely. A layer of blankets covered the boy and he could see Napoleon's whiskers above the fabric. Remy had a dead grip on the tomcat. The boy looked smaller than he remembered; but his face showed deep lines, even in sleep. Jean-Luc had told him about Remy being a hustler, about Philippe, his grave and trying to pick his father's pocket. Jean-Luc definitely had a weak spot for the boy. What do I do? Accept or fight dis?

 

Remy wouldn't present any danger to his position; he would always be Jean-Luc's firstborn and true flesh and blood. His ego could take having an adopted brother. "Did you 'ready tell him 'bout your plans?"

 

"Non, I wanted you to know first, mais my mind's made up, Henri. I will adopt him."

 

"Remy LeBeau..." Henri said softly. "Why not."

 

Jean-Luc smiled. "Now, keep in mind dat he's probably an empath. Remy will figure out if you really accept him or if you're only pretendin'."

 

"Oui, he's a mutant," Henri recalled. "Do you t'ink he has other powers as well?"

 

"I don' know much 'bout mutants. Mattie's de expert, mais she said it's unlikely mutants have more dan one power." Jean-Luc sat down on the side of the bed and stroked Remy's hair. The boy moved restlessly, trying to squirm away from Jean-Luc's hand and he stopped the caress. He didn't want to evoke any flashbacks.

 

"When will Marcel make dis official?" Marcel was their lawyer and would handle the adoption.

 

"He will drop by tomorrow. I want you to be present as well."

 

Henri nodded his head. "I'm lookin' forward to gettin' to know my petit frère."

 

Jean-Luc truly hoped Henri was being honest with him. "He needs a big brother."

 

"Don' worry, I'll be one."

 

///

 

Remy yawned, rubbed his eyes and hugged Napoleon upon waking up. "Good mornin'," he whispered into the tomcat's ear. "I'm glad you stayed." But it was more than that. Napoleon was still inside his mind and the cat's presence was comforting and warmed his chilly soul. "Dis will be our li'l secret, non? We won' tell dem."

 

It surprised him that Napoleon's presence in his mind didn't freak him out. It brought back bad memories about the Antiquary, but having Napoleon this close also soothed his troubled mind. The cat had also been responsible for his peaceful sleep, somehow keeping the nightmares away.

 

Was this Napoleon's doing or his? How was it possible that he felt the cat in his mind? "You're mon ami, oui?"

 

In the doorway Mattie watched them and realized she had to teach him how to control his powers. But that also meant telling Remy that she was a telepath and the only telepath Remy had ever known was the Antiquary. The boy would fear her and never let her get close again. She had to bide her time and wait for the right opportunity to show Remy that not all telepaths fed on others to stay alive.

 

"Mornin' chile. It's time to rise and shine!" Remy was startled and Mattie pretended not seeing his apprehension. She wanted him to feel safe for now and didn't mention her worries. "Need me to help you get dressed?" Remy's right wrist was still in a cast and made it hard for him to dress himself.

 

"I wanna try on my own." Remy didn't want to release Napoleon, but sensed that the cat needed to stretch his legs and get a bite to eat, so he let go. He climbed out of bed and walked into the bathroom to splash some water onto his face. He wanted to take a quick shower or bath, but something told him tante didn't have the time to wrap his cast in plastic this morning. Within minutes he brushed his teeth, combed his hair, stepped into some jeans and put on a sweater. He was actually quite pleased with himself that he'd managed to do all this without Mattie's help.

 

To his delight, Napoleon was still on his bed, waiting for him. "Nappie!" He jumped back onto the bed and rubbed the tomcat's tummy.

 

Mattie watched them, smiling gently. "Come on, chile. Napoleon's hungry and so are you."

 

Remy followed Mattie to the kitchen and sat down to eat his breakfast. "You'e tryin' to fatten me up!"

 

"Oui, I am," Mattie admitted as she put Napoleon's food into a bowl, feeding him. "Jean-Luc wants to see you after you're done eatin'."

 

Remy was busy shoveling his food into his mouth and Mattie sighed. "Slow down, chile, or you'll have another stomach ache." No matter what she tried or said, Remy couldn't slow down eating.

 

"Why does m'sieur want to see me?" Remy asked between two bites of bacon and eggs.

 

Mattie shrugged her shoulders. "I don' know," she said, lying. She knew Jean-Luc wanted to tell Remy about the adoption and introduce him to Henri and she didn't want to spoil the surprise. "And why do you keep callin' him m'sieur? He asked you to call him Jean-Luc."

 

Remy actually smiled shyly. "Don' know, Mattie."

 

"Now you're playin' games with tante!" she chided him. Remy had finished breakfast and she shooed him toward Jean-Luc's study. "Don' keep him waitin'!"

 

Remy was already half-way to Jean-Luc's study when he quickly turned and ran back to the kitchen.

 

"Chile, what?" Mattie smiled as Remy picked up Napoleon. It took the boy a lot of effort to lift the heavy tomcat and Remy swayed on his feet. "You'd betta start eatin' more! Napoleon weighs more dan you do!"

Remy chuckled and managed to lift the cat to his chest. "You're comin' wit' me... not leavin' me 'lone."

 

When he finally arrived at Jean-Luc's study he realized he couldn't knock because he had his hands full of cat. "Huh? M'sieur?" he called out instead.

 

"Remy?" Jean-Luc opened the door and grinned, seeing the boy's predicament. "Want me to take Napoleon?"

 

"Non, I can manage!" Remy stepped inside, but froze, seeing the two strangers. His bravado disappeared and he moved closer to Jean-Luc, seeking the man's protection.

 

Jean-Luc noticed Remy's fear and sat on his heels in front of the boy. "I want you to meet dese people. Dey're friends." Remy nodded his head, but obviously distrusted the strangers. After rising to his feet again, Jean-Luc guided Remy to his desk. "Remy, put Napoleon onto de couch."

 

Remy sighed, but obeyed at once. "Oui, m'sieur."

 

"Remy, I want you to meet Henri LeBeau, he's mon fils." Jean-Luc watched Remy's reaction closely and saw the shock in the boy's eyes.

 

"You're his son?" Remy stared at Henri and quickly averted his eyes.

 

Henri and Jean-Luc exchanged a look. Henri smiled, mimicked his father's move and went down on his heels so he was level with Remy. "Bonjour, Remy." He offered the boy his hand.

 

Remy awkwardly accepted it. "Bonjour, m'sieur." Why hadn't Jean-Luc told him he had a son? Now he felt guilty for taking up Jean-Luc's time when he should have been spending it with his son!

 

"And this is Marcel, he's my lawyer. Do you know what dat word means?" Jean-Luc asked.

 

"Tante's teachin' me new words, oui, I know..." Remy searched his memory. "Mais I don' know how to explain it."

 

"He deals with official matters, Remy and I asked him to come here because I want to make dis official." Jean-Luc signaled Remy to stand beside him behind the desk. Remy obeyed hesitantly. "I know you can' read yet," Jean-Luc started, seeing shame in Remy's eyes. "Don' worry, you'll learn how to read and write, mais right now you'll have to trust me."

 

Jean-Luc noted that Remy nodded his head, but didn't confirm he trusted him. It's probably too soon for dat. Jean-Luc cleared his throat and pointed at the paper. "Dis is your name right here."

 

"It says Remy?" He forgot about Henri and Marcel and cocked his head, recognizing the "E" which tante had taught him to write.

 

"It says Remy LeBeau." Jean-Luc held his breath, watching Remy closely.

 

"M'sieur? I don' understand." Helplessly, Remy looked at Jean-Luc. What game was Jean-Luc playing? Mais non, he doesn' play games.

 

"I want to adopt you, Remy. I want you as mon fils." Jean-Luc smiled as Remy's eyes widened in shocked surprise. "I want you to be part of dis family."

 

The first thing he felt at hearing those words was pure joy and he barely controlled the urge to throw his arms around Jean-Luc's neck and to hug him, but then he shook his head. "Merci, m'sieur, mais I can' accept."

 

Frowning, Jean-Luc cupped Remy's chin in the palm of his hand and sought out the boy's eyes. "And why's dat?"

 

"Henri is your fils. He needs you... can' take his père 'way from him." An incredible sadness slipped into his swimming eyes. He wanted Jean-Luc as his father, wanted the man to take care of him, but couldn't take him away from Henri!

 

Henri reacted at once and walked up to Remy. "Petit, come here and talk to me." He guided Remy to the couch and sat him down. Automatically, Remy's hand went in search of Napoleon to touch the fur. Henri smiled, convinced that his father was doing the right thing. "Remy?" He waited for Remy to look at him before he continued and he cringed seeing the lost expression in the red on black eyes. This boy desperately needed a father and family.

 

Remy trembled, wondering just how mad Henri was at him for trying to take away his father.

 

"Jean-Luc's a bon père, Remy. He raised me well, at least I t'ink so, mais you need him more dan I do. You need a père to take care of you. I'll 'ways love my père and I want you to love him too. Please, Remy?"

 

Remy's eyes went from nearly orange to bright red during his little speech and Henri watched the transformation in fascination. "You'd be mon petit frère, oui? We can do t'ings as a family."

 

Tears flowed down Remy's cheek. "Are you sure, m'sieur?" He couldn't believe Henri accepted him like this!

 

"I'm sure, oui." Henri pulled Remy gently to his feet and walked him back to Jean-Luc's desk where he picked up a pen and put it into Remy's left hand. "Lemme help?"

 

Remy nodded his head and watched in amazement as Henri guided his hand into writing his name beneath Jean-Luc's. Was this really happening?

 

Jean-Luc practically radiated happiness and contentment as he wrapped his arms around Remy, who oddly enough allowed it, not kicking to free himself. "You're Remy LeBeau now."

Remy tried to wipe away his tears, but found that Jean-Luc had a tight hold on him. So he surrendered instead, resting his head on Jean-Luc's shoulder and soaking up the man's compassion and love.

"Call me poppa?" Jean-Luc met Remy's eyes and smiled encouragingly.

 

"Ain' sure," Remy whispered, peeking to see if Henri was really okay with this. Henri nodded his head and Remy finally found the courage to address Jean-Luc. "Poppa."

 

Jean-Luc sighed, relieved that things had worked out and hugged his son. "You'll 'ways have a home here, mon fils." He held Remy close while the boy cried.

 

Poppa... poppa... I got a père, a père who loves me! Remy buried his head against Jean-Luc's chest and let go of all the feelings, which he had kept bottled up inside.

 

"Je t'aime, petit." Jean-Luc stroked the soft hair.

 

"Je t'aime, poppa."

 

A solitary tear made its way down Jean-Luc's cheek hearing those three little words.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter six

First times

 

"Remy, we need to talk." Mattie and Jean-Luc exchanged a pleased look as Remy approached. The boy had been at the LeBeau household for over a year now and barely resembled the scared hustler they had taken in at all. Feeding Remy healthy food and making him work out had improved his physical condition and they were now here to deal with the emotional side.

 

"Tante, poppa." Remy smiled, showing off his white teeth. The dentist had shaken his head in disbelief when he had first taken a seat in the dentist chair, but investing money and time had certainly paid off.

 

"You keep growin', don' you?" Jean-Luc remarked teasingly. "We need to buy new clothes 'gain. One shoppin' trip comin' up... Mattie can take you."

 

Although Remy felt much more comfortable around Jean-Luc and Mattie, he always reminded himself how lucky he had been to pick Jean-Luc's pocket that day. "Henri said I did well on de agility test." Remy blushed. "He said I'd make a fine t'ief, be a grand addition to de Guild."

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head, remembering the surprise on Remy's face when he had told the boy about the Guild. Remy had been very eager to make Jean-Luc proud and had worked hard on becoming the best thief there was. "You'll make a great t'ief, Remy." He reached out and ruffled Remy's long hair. He had suggested cutting it, claiming long hair could hamper a thief, but Remy had declined and he respected his son's wishes. "Mais dat's not why we wanna talk to you."

 

Remy's eyes darkened and Jean-Luc realized the boy still felt insecure, probably always would, no matter how much he reassured Remy. "Come, sit wit' us." Jean-Luc picked up Napoleon, who'd felt neglected lately now that Remy devoted more time to his studies and dropped the tomcat on Remy's lap. Napoleon purred as Remy rubbed behind his ears.

 

"Bonjour, mon ami," Remy whispered, staring into the cat's eyes. Napoleon's mind was strong, remarkably strong for an animal and he soaked up the cat's affection for him. In return, he rubbed Napoleon's belly.

 

"What do you wanna talk to me 'bout?" Remy said hesitantly, hoping he hadn't displeased or disappointed the two people that meant the world to him.

 

"You're doin' remarkably well wit' your studies," Jean-Luc started, trying to reassure Remy, "mais we never discussed your feelings."

 

"My feelings?" Remy frowned. "I don' understand." Didn't Jean-Luc know how thankful he was that the Patriarch had taken him in? Didn't they know how much he loved them? That they were the only ones he trusted?

 

"We know all dat, chile," Mattie said, steering the conversation toward her telepathy. "We know you love us, trust us and how grateful you are."

 

Remy jumped to his feet and Napoleon's reflexes kicked in, making sure the tomcat landed safely on his feet. "You know what I was t'inkin'!" Remy's eyes narrowed and his old suspicions surfaced again, accompanied by bad memories featuring the Antiquary. The old monster had known what he had been thinking as well! Dazedly, he stared at Mattie, moving away from her.

 

Mattie sighed. "Oui, I'm a telepath, Remy."

 

"Jus' like de Antiquary." He'd learned a lot since living with the LeBeau's. "What do you want?" He closed his eyes against the memories, not wanting to relive them after all this time. "Why don' you leave me 'lone?" He rested his forehead against the wall; why was Mattie doing this to him?

 

"Non, I'm not like de Antiquary. I don' feed on your life energy, Remy." Mattie walked toward him, but refrained from touching him. He didn't trust her right now and would only grow more distant. "I wanna help."

 

Remy's eyes met hers. "Help?" Could he still trust her? She had said she didn't want his life energy, but she wanted something from him.

 

"I wanna teach you how to control your empathy. You need strong shields and..."

 

"Empathy?" Remy's eyes grew big.

 

"Oui, you're an empath. You read emotions like I read thoughts." Mattie gave him a thoughtful look. "You've been broadcastin' dese last few days. You're gettin' stronger and you need to learn how to deal wit' it."

 

"I ain' an empat'," Remy whispered, shocked.

 

"Den how come you feel Napoleon in your mind? Your empathy grew after Jean gave you Napoleon to care for, don' deny it, chile."

 

"I don' wanna be an empat'," Remy mumbled, lost. What was an empath?

 

"You have a beautiful gift, chile. Lemme teach you." Mattie extended her hand, hoping Remy still trusted her. "I'll never let you down, Remy. I want what's best for you. Please, trust me... petit."

 

Hearing that endearment made Remy decide to accept her offer. "You took me in, gave me a reason to live," he started and his gaze shifted from Mattie to Jean-Luc, "I want bot' of you to be proud of me."

 

"You're a great student, Remy, and you'll master dis as well. You make me very proud." Jean-Luc rested his hand on Remy's shoulder, noticed the shiver that washed through Remy's body, but squeezed his son's shoulder nonetheless, trying to show Remy how much he cared. "Listen to Mattie, mon fils, and make me proud."

 

Remy's eyes glowed. "I will."

 

///

 

Henri carried Mattie's suitcase to the black Sedan. They were leaving for New York on Guild matters. Jean-Luc was feeling a bit under the weather, coming down with the flu and had opted to rest and spend some time with Remy instead.

 

Mattie locked eyes with Remy. You be a good chile while tante's gone. They had been working on strengthening Remy's shields and as well as being a strong empath, the boy had turned out to be a weak telepath as well. After Remy's initial reluctance to use telepathic speech the boy had turned out to be a natural. His shields were strong enough to lock her out and he could control his empathy to a certain degree. We will continue to work on dis once I'm back.

 

Oui, tante. Remy glanced at Henri and Jean-Luc. The two men knew tante and he were talking telepathically, but didn't know what that conversation was about. He still tried to stay on Henri's good side, scared Henri might feel jealous of the time Jean-Luc spend with him instead of with his real flesh and blood. Although Henri tried to make him feel like part of the family, Remy would never forget he was only adopted.

 

Mattie and Henri slipped into the back seat and the driver keyed the ignition; Remy and Jean-Luc waved goodbye.

 

Remy felt the fatigue in Jean-Luc's mind and knew that the flu was hitting hard. Jean-Luc had been working too hard and too many hours and his body was paying the toll. Suddenly Jean-Luc's hand settled on his shoulder and he barely repressed the reflex to pull away. Instead, he offered Jean-Luc the support he was looking for. "Wanna go inside 'gain?"

 

"Mebbe I should lie down for a bit," Jean-Luc whispered. Was he running a fever? A coughing fit almost doubled him over. "Mon Dieu, dis cold means business."

 

Concerned, Remy looked at Jean-Luc. "Poppa?"

 

"What are you sensin'?"

 

"Cold's gonna hit hard."

 

Jean-Luc smiled. "Help me to my study? I'll lie down on de couch for an hour. Dat should do de trick." His smile brightened, seeing Remy's frown. The boy would probably turn into a mother hen now Mattie wasn't here!

 

"Poppa?" Remy licked his lips. He had never contradicted Jean-Luc before and felt nervous. "You should go to bed. De couch will only wreck your back."

 

"Are you tellin' me I'm gettin' old, chile?" Jean-Luc chuckled, but then started to cough again. "Mebbe you're right. Take me to my room instead."

 

Pleased, Remy guided Jean-Luc to his private chambers. He had only been here once or twice before when the nightmares had turned so bad that Jean-Luc had let him sleep in his bed.

 

Jean-Luc sat down on his bed and sighed deeply, which set off another coughing fit. "Merde!"

 

"I can get you some hot tea," Remy offered, eager to take care of Jean-Luc. He closed the curtains, switched on a lamp and helped Jean-Luc remove his boots.

 

"Dis is absurd! I'm never ill! I don' get de flu!" Jean-Luc panted for breath, feeling an increasing pressure in his lungs. He started to lie down but Remy stopped him, fluffing his pillows so he wasn't completely horizontal. "I would like some tea." Remy's eyes glowed with pleasure and Jean-Luc smiled despite feeling nauseous and dizzy. Remy will baby me to deat'!

 

"What kinda tea would you like, poppa?" Remy tucked the blanket around Jean-Luc's form. He had never had the chance to take care of Jean-Luc and he wanted to do everything right.

 

"Chamomile, wit' a hint of lemon? Steamin' hot?" Jean-Luc actually enjoyed seeing Remy fuss over him.

 

"One hot tea comin' up!" Remy started for the door, then looked over his shoulder. "Are you comfortable, poppa? Anyt'in' else you want me to fetch?"

 

"Hot tea is jus' fine, Remy." Jean-Luc sighed relieved when Remy had left his room. Even Mattie wasn't this bad! He won' hardly let me out of his sight...

 

///

 

Remy hurried back to Jean-Luc, carrying the tray with hot tea and crackers. He was humming softly, determined to take care of Jean-Luc until his father felt better. "Poppa?"

 

"I'm still 'wake, Remy..." Jean-Luc sneezed and realized he didn't have any tissues.

 

"Want me to get you some tissues?" Remy handed Jean-Luc the mug filled with hot tea.

 

"You're cheatin', petit."

 

Remy felt caught in the act. Jean-Luc had given him permission to peak at his mind, but he still felt hesitant to do so. Jean-Luc had formidable shields himself and he wouldn't be able to read his father's thoughts if Jean-Luc didn't want him to.

 

"Tissues, right." Remy looked about and headed for the bathroom. He placed the box with tissues next to Jean-Luc and stood in front of the bed, wondering what to do next. Jean-Luc blew his nose and Remy giggled.

 

"What?"

 

"Your nose is glowin'," Remy remarked teasingly.

 

"Why don' you fetch Napoleon and keep me company? It's been a while since we talked."

 

Napoleon walked into the room, looked at them and settled down at the foot of Jean-Luc's bed.

 

"He must have heard dat," Jean-Luc teased. "Remy, come here." He patted the space next to him and noticed that the old wariness returned to Remy's eyes. "You know you can trust me, petit."

 

Remy sat cross-legged on the bed and watched Jean-Luc closely. "What?"

 

"You're doin' so well, Remy. When I took you in, I hoped you'd recover, mais I feared it was too late." He had wanted to tell Remy about his betrayal several times, but had chickened out. How could he tell Remy he had delivered him into the Antiquary's hands? "You feel at home here?"

 

Remy quickly nodded his head. "Oui, love it here."

 

Jean-Luc speech was stopped short by another coughing fit. "Mer..." He didn't even get the chance to finish the word, feeling weak and cold.

 

Remy left the bed to collect another blanket and placed it on top of the first. "Warmer?"

 

"Merci, Remy." Sipping his tea, Jean-Luc felt at peace, in spite of being ill.

 

///

 

"Dis... is... disgustin'!" Jean-Luc cringed; a sneezing bout had taken him by surprise and his hands were covered in snot. His eyes stung, he felt weak and chills wracked his body. Thankfully, Remy was still at his side eighteen hours later, bringing him hot tea and a new load of tissues. "You should get some sleep as well, Remy."

 

"I'm bien," Remy whispered, helping Jean-Luc sip his tea, supporting his father's hand. "I like takin' care of you." The words escaped his lips before he realized what he was saying. Lowering his eyes, he stared at the crackers Jean-Luc had refused to eat, claiming he was nauseous.

 

Jean-Luc smiled encouragingly. "I like takin' care of you too. We're quite a pair, Remy." Suddenly, his stomach contracted. "Remy, bathroom, now!"

 

Remy grabbed Jean-Luc around the waist and supported him while they made their way to the bathroom. Jean-Luc lunged for the porcelain bowl and emptied his stomach. After everything had left his digestive tract, dry heaves continued to torment him. He was very much aware of Remy, who was rubbing his back and brushing back his hair. De roles are certainly reversed.

 

"Poppa? Want me to call tante or Olivier?" Remy was getting worried, feeling the exhaustion in Jean-Luc's mind.

 

"Let's give it another 12 hours, bien? If I don' feel betta by den, we'll call Olivier." Jean-Luc sat back and leaned his back against the wall.

 

Remy flushed the toilet again and looked lost.

 

"Mouthwash?" Jean-Luc suggested, but Remy shook his head.

 

"Non, you should brush your teet' or you'll never get rid of de taste."

 

Jean-Luc chuckled again. "You'd make a bon nurse, Remy. Sure you wanna be t'ief?" He dragged himself to his feet and picked up his toothbrush. "Toothpaste?"

 

Remy uncapped the tube and handed it to Jean-Luc. He felt proud that he could help Jean-Luc and that his father was leaning on him. I'll take bon care of him...

 

After brushing his teeth, Jean-Luc returned to his bed and pushed away the tea. The mere sight of it made him nauseous again. "Remy?"

 

Remy sat beside him and absentmindedly cradled Jean-Luc's hand in his. "It'll get betta, poppa."

 

"Dat's what I said when I'd jus' taken you in." Jean-Luc closed his eyes. The pressure on his lungs was gone now and he hoped he would continue to improve. "You never gave up, petit. Must have been hard on you."

 

"You know what de hardest part was?" Remy soothingly rubbed Jean-Luc's fingers, marveling at how much bigger his father's hand was than his.

 

"What?" Jean-Luc opened his eyes again to search Remy's.

 

"To believe dat you didn' want some sort of payback... dat you didn' want... me in dat way." Remy bit his bottom lip. "De Antiquary wanted my life energy, Philippe used me to finance his drug habit and de johns... dey jus' wanted sexual favors. It was so hard to believe you were different. I was afraid to believe..."

 

Jean-Luc caressed Remy's fingers, regretting that this boy had suffered so greatly because of a mistake he had made almost eleven years ago. Which reminds me... It's Remy's birthday today, mais I can' tell him, can' explain why I know dat fact.

 

"You seem betta," Remy said, trying to cover up his embarrassment by switching topics.

 

"I feel betta, mebbe you can get me some orange juice?"

 

"Mais oui." Remy regretted letting go of Jean-Luc's hand but did so anyway. These intimate moments had become rare these last few weeks.

 

Jean-Luc used Remy's absence to reach beneath his bed. It would take Remy a few minutes to get the orange juice. He was panting by the time he had lifted Remy's gift from the floor and dropped it onto the bed. Fortunately, the content wasn't fragile.

 

"Poppa? Your orange juice." Remy handed the glass to Jean-Luc and noticed the giftwrapped package that had miraculously appeared on the bed. He pretended to ignore it, but couldn't help wondering what it was doing there.

 

"Open it, mon fils." Jean-Luc knew Remy was going to like his present because he had seen the boy admire it when Mattie had dragged him with them on a shopping trip.

 

Remy's hands trembled when he removed the gift wrapping. Why would Jean-Luc buy him something? His eyes widened, seeing the leather jacket inside. "Poppa?"

 

"I saw you admire it, mais you never ask for anythin' so I decided to buy it for you. Try it on." Jean-Luc nodded his head as Remy slipped into the leather jacket. "A perfect fit."

 

"Merci, poppa, mais why?" His fingers caressed the smooth leather and he avoided Jean-Luc's eyes. Getting gifts made him uncomfortable; he always felt like he should give something in return, except he didn't have anything.

 

Jean-Luc shrugged his shoulders, feeling tired. "It suits you, petit." He deliberately avoided answering Remy's question. "I t'ink I'll nap for a while."

 

Remy stroked back a damp lock from Jean-Luc's face, realizing how much he loved this man. Jean-Luc had truly touched his heart and given him the love he had craved all those years. "Merci, poppa. Je t'aime aussi."

 

He shrugged out of the jacket, reverently placing it over a chair. Yawning, he laid down beside Jean-Luc, snuggled up to his father and cradling Napoleon in his arms.

 

///

 

Jean-Luc experimentally stretched his body and sighed when the movement didn't cause another bout of coughing. Guess de elixir is finally kickin' in. Wonder why I got the flu in de first place! Feeling a warm body against his, he opened his eyes and looked at Remy, who was deeply asleep in his arms. The boy had truly fussed over him like a mother hen when he had been ill. You're a precious gift, Remy and you must love takin' care of me for a change.

 

"Remy? Petit, wake up?" Now that he was feeling better he wanted to check his agenda and see what plans he had made for today. Did I invite Belle and her father over to meet Remy? Marius and he had been talking about uniting the two Guilds and decided a marriage would work best, provided Remy and Belle liked each other.

 

Jean-Luc smiled as Remy continued to sleep right through his attempts at waking him up. Remy's growin' out, his muscles are finally developin', mais he's still too small for his age. He's even growin' facial hair. I'll have to teach him how to shave! Affectionately, his fingers traveled down Remy's chin, and the hairs tickled beneath his fingertips. His voice also deepened a bit. He's becomin' a man.

 

"Remy? Sleepyhead, come on, wake up!" Jean-Luc tried harder now, tickling Remy. He never knew what reaction to expect when he did something unexpected like that. Remy could wake up giggling, but could also freeze up from memories.

 

Remy's eyes flashed open and he started giggling. He had been relaxed in sleep and the nightmares had left him alone. Looking into Jean-Luc's mischievous eyes, he decided offense was the best defense and tickled Jean-Luc back. A few months ago, he would never have dared to touch Jean-Luc in this manner. "You're feelin' betta."

 

"Oui, must have been your bon care, Remy. You really make a bon nurse." Jean-Luc picked up Napoleon and put the tomcat on the floor. "We'll feed you in a sec, mon ami." Turning back to Remy, he said," Merci for lookin' after me. I haven' had de flu in years." Mon Dieu, he's blushin'! Remy's blushin'!

 

Remy squirmed away from Jean-Luc and got to his feet. "I'll make breakfast for you and feed Nappie." Jean-Luc's praise made him feel awkward; he just wasn't used to being complimented.

 

"Bien and I'll take a quick shower. Remy, got any plans for dis afternoon?"

 

"Non, don' t'ink so." Remy halted in the doorway and looked at Jean-Luc who had managed to get out of bed and was stretching his body. "Why?"

 

"I want you to meet someone." Jean-Luc cringed seeing the sudden suspicion in Remy's eyes. The boy would never be able to trust unconditionally and it was his fault.

 

"Who?"

 

"Belladonna." Jean-Luc watched Remy's eyes go big. "Henri told you 'bout her?" Henri had taken on Remy’s training personally, trying to bond with his adopted brother.

 

"Oui, he even showed me pictures of her, mais I never met her 'fore. She's an Assassin, non?"

 

"Oui, and one day she'll be de leader of de Assassins." Jean-Luc had long thought this through. Henri was too old for Belle and engaged to Mercy, but Remy was of the right age and might be interested in Belle. Mais should Remy say non, I don' wanna marry her, de deal is off. I won' sacrifice his happiness.

 

Remy nodded his head; if this was Jean-Luc's wish he'd comply. "I'll be dere."

 

///

 

He's fidgetin'! Jean-Luc grinned, seeing Remy's nervousness. De boy's 'ways insecure when meetin' strangers.

 

He walked over to Remy and rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. Boy? Youn' man is more like it. Only eleven years old, Remy made a very mature impression, probably due to everything he had been through in his short life. "Don' worry, Remy."

 

"I can' help it." Remy managed a weak smile. "I never met any girls 'fore."

 

Jean-Luc hadn't considered that. The Antiquary's Velvet Ministry consisted of boys only and later on the streets Remy had only been in contact with older men. Of course the boy was nervous! "Belle likes you."

 

"She does?" Remy's eyes showed surprise. "How do you know?"

 

"I talked to her." Jean-Luc hoped he wasn't adding to Remy's nervousness by confiding this to his son. "She wants to meet you."

 

Remy fumbled with the sleeve of his sweater. "Do I look bien?"

 

"You look fine, Remy." Jean-Luc caught the footfalls in the corridor and knew their guests had arrived.

 

Remy heard voices and stared at his father, mutely begging him to stay close. The door opened and Marius and Belle entered.

 

Mon Dieu, she's beautiful! Remy had seen pictures of her, but they didn't do her justice. Belladonna was beautiful. He instantly fell in love with her blond, silk-like hair, which was hanging loose over her shoulders, her inviting blue eyes and her luscious lips. Something stirred in his groin and he blushed, realizing he was reacting to her presence. I like her...

 

"Marius, dis is my son Remy LeBeau." Jean-Luc had watched Remy closely and grinned. The boy was obviously attracted to her!

 

Marius shook Jean-Luc's hand and took in the boy's appearance. His spies were already gathering information on the boy, but Jean-Luc was guarding Remy's past well. Seeing the red on black eyes, he was reminded that the boy was a mutant. Remy wasn't his first choice for Belle, but if she liked him he wouldn't stand in her way. "Remy, dis is my daughter Belle."

 

"Pleased to meet you, Remy," Belle said, formally, and extended her hand. She raised a puzzled eyebrow when Remy hesitated to shake it. There was something about the young thief that intrigued her. The red on black eyes were fascinating and the boy was actually blushing... He's cute!

 

When her father had first told her about Remy and an eventual marriage to stop the fighting between the two Guilds, she had been furious, but now she was actually considering going along with her father's plan. Marius would insist that they date for some time, then he would proclaim their engagement and they would marry when they turned eighteen. Her father had planned her future and while she had hated that idea at first, it seemed way more attractive now.

 

"Uh... Bonjour, Belle," Remy stuttered, wishing the ground would open and swallow him. His face had turned crimson and Belle was still holding his trembling hand. He had lowered his eyes and now found the courage to peek at her sky blue eyes. She was smiling! Smiling at him! Weakly, he returned the smile.

 

Belle decided to help the poor boy. "So you're a t'ief? I'm sure you can tell me a lot of interestin' t'ings and mebbe I'll show you how to kill someone usin' only your pinky."

 

Marius and Jean-Luc laughed. Even Remy managed a chuckle. Belle had broken the ice and Jean-Luc was immensely grateful for that. Exchanging a look with Marius he noticed the equally pleased expression on the Assassin's face. They had agreed not to leave Remy and Belle alone and to limit the introduction to only a few minutes to avoid awkward moments.

 

"What? You don' believe I can kill someone wit' my pinky?" Belle smiled.

 

Remy was lost, seeing that smile. He knew that if he would try to say something only nonsense would leave his lips, so he stayed quiet and tried to hold her gaze instead.

 

"We need to leave now." Marius saved Remy from embarrassing himself and guided his daughter toward the doorway. "I'm sure de two of you will see a lot of each other in de future."

 

"Merci for droppin' by." Jean-Luc shook his head; desperately trying to hide his amusement. Remy already looked like a love-sick fool.

 

The door closed and Remy sighed relieved. "I acted like a dumbass." The blush remained as he looked at Jean-Luc. "You t'ink she hates me now?"

 

"Non," Jean-Luc said firmly. "She likes you, mais you're nervous and she knows dat."

 

"Does she also know 'bout... 'bout my life on de streets?" Remy lowered his eyes. "She's way too bien for me!"

 

"Nobody knows you were a hustler," Jean-Luc assured him. "When de times comes, you'll have to decide whether to tell her or not."

 

"I like her..." Remy admitted, shyly.

 

"We could tell," Jean-Luc teased. "Marius was pleased as well. I'm certain he'll contact me to arrange for another meetin'. I'm glad you like her."

 

Remy shuffled his feet and the strange sensation in his stomach slowly faded. He had heard about love at first sight, but had never thought it really existed. Now he knew better.

 

///

 

Later that evening, it was time to turn in for the night and Remy undressed, only leaving his boxers on. It was rather warm tonight and New Orleans was threatened by a heat wave. Although he hated the cold, he disliked the heat as well. Lying down on his bed, he grinned as Napoleon settled down at the foot of his bed. Napoleon had spent every night close to him since he had sit on the tomcat accidentally.

 

Feeling lazy and comfortable, he stretched and kicked off the sheet, feeling hot already. Thinking back on Belle, he smiled, wondering if she really liked him. He could try his empathy on her the next time they met, but that was cheating and he quickly dismissed the thought.

 

What does her hair feel like? Remy couldn't stop thinking about her and when he fell asleep he still saw her face in his mind.

 

///

 

Belle was close, they were talking and he met her sparkling eyes. "You're très belle, Belle."

 

"You're handsome too, Remy." Belle giggled and moved closer. "Have you ever kissed a girl 'fore?"

 

"Non," he admitted honestly, feeling nervous and shy. "You're so beautiful, Belle, can' believe you like me."

 

"Mais I do!" Belle smiled determinedly and brushed his lips. "I like you, Remy LeBeau...

 

Remy's eyes flashed open; he was trembling and a strange sensation pooled in his groin. Looking down at his body, he found he had wiggled out of his boxers during his sleep and his penis... Non! Shocked, he stared at the clear liquid that left his penis in short spurts. "Non!"

 

His breath hitched and he stared at his come in disbelief. "Non... non!"

 

Jean-Luc, alarmed by Remy's cries, stormed into his son's room, ready to deal with intruders or the boy's recurring nightmares. "Remy?" A quick scan of the room indicated Remy was alone, so his son was probably suffering from nightmares again.

 

"Remy?" Remy was hiding beneath a sheet, which he had quickly pulled up to his chin. "What's wrong, Remy?" Remy was shaking like a leaf beneath the sheet and the red on black eyes glowed with a frightening intensity.

 

When Remy didn't respond, Jean-Luc tried touch, but Remy jerked back. "Remy, lower your shields? Please? Trust me, mon fils." Remy occasionally allowed him into his mind when he had had a nightmare, knowing he could soothe the boy's troubled mind. "Remy?"

 

Remy blinked his eyes, realized Jean-Luc was in the room and began sobbing. He was confused, shaken and felt dirty.

 

"Remy, lower your shields? Den I can help you calm down. Focus on your breathin', petit." Jean-Luc was clueless as to what had upset Remy and waited for his son to reach a decision. Reaching out carefully, he found that Remy had lowered his shields and he focused on his love and affection for the boy. "Everythin's bien, Remy."

 

"Non, it ain' bien!" Remy exploded. "I'm one of dem now!" Using the sheet, he cleaned himself up.

 

The action puzzled Jean-Luc at first, but then everything fell into place. "You had an erotic dream, oui?" Still concentrating on his love for Remy, he managed to calm his son down. "An erotic dream 'bout Belle, mebbe?" Remy nodded his head, but still avoided his eyes. "Dat's perfectly normal, Remy."

 

"Non, it ain'!" Stubbornly, Remy refused to meet Jean-Luc's eyes, feeling ashamed and dirty.

 

Jean-Luc switched on the lamp on the nightstand and took in Remy's flushed appearance. "It's normal to feel confused, Remy. Dis took you by surprise, mais it was bound to happen. You're a man now."

 

"I don' wanna be a man!"

 

What was he missing? Jean-Luc studied Remy's face and recalled his son's words. "What did you mean when you said; 'you're one of dem now'?"

 

"A john," Remy admitted in a shaky tone. "Johns come... I never did..."

 

"You were too young. Surely you know 'bout dis?" Jean-Luc frowned. Didn' anyone tell him what to expect? Den 'gain, who could have told him? De Antiquary didn' care and Philippe... Merde, it's up to me. Henri knew all dis stuff and wasn' upset when he had his first ejaculation. Mon Dieu, how do I explain t'ings to Remy? Wit' his prior experiences dis had to upset him. Remy won' approach dis rationally.

 

"I wanna take a shower, please leave?" Remy fidgeted with the sheet, desperate to wash away his shame.

 

"Bien," Jean-Luc sighed. "Take a shower and den come to my room. We need to talk." Jean-Luc got to his feet and licked his lips. "Remy, it's bien. Please, believe me?"

 

Remy nodded his head, but his set jaw indicated he didn't believe Jean-Luc. "Move it, petit. Take dat shower and den you'll come to my room. Understood?"

 

"Oui." Remy waited until Jean-Luc had left the room, pushed down the dirty sheet and hurried into the bathroom. After turning on the shower, he stepped beneath the warm spray and poured a generous amount of shower gel into his hand. He scrubbed his skin until it was red and then left the shower cabin. After wrapping some towels around his body, he collapsed onto the floor and began rocking slowly. "I'm one of dem now..."

 

///

 

Jean-Luc became impatient and worried when Remy didn't show up and decided to return to his son's room. Finding it empty, he called Remy's name. A soft groan attracted his attention and he stepped into the bathroom, finding Remy sitting on the floor. Sitting on his heels, he cupped Remy's chin in the palm of his hand and forced him to meet his eyes. "Remy?

Remy's draped eyes begged him to leave him alone, but instead Jean-Luc wrapped his arms around the trembling boy, lifted him and carried him to the couch in the corner of Remy's bedroom. "We're gonna talk now," he announced, firmly.

 

"Why is dis happenin' to me?" Remy lifted his eyes and met Jean-Luc's apologetically. "What did I do wrong?"

 

Jean-Luc smiled reassuringly. "Rien, you did nothin' wrong."

 

"Den why..." Remy frowned. "Only johns..."

 

Jean-Luc finally understood what was upsetting Remy. "You're a man now Remy, and your body's goin' through a lot of changes. Dis is normal. Every man has erotic dreams and orgasms. It's normal."

 

Remy stared at Jean-Luc. He couldn't believe his father wasn't equally upset. "Do you have dem?" When Jean-Luc hesitated to answer, Remy nodded his head. "Non, you don' have dem! Mais I have... why am I bein' punished? I tried to be de best I can, mais... it's cause I sucked them off, non? Dis is..."

 

"Remy, stop it." Jean-Luc's voice was remarkably calm and warm. "You aren' bein' punished." He took a deep breath before making his next admission. "I have erotic dreams too, Remy. And oui, sometimes I come in my sleep. It's perfectly healthy." Remy's big eyes almost made him smile, almost, but he didn't, not wanting to ridicule Remy's fears. "Why don' you get dressed and we continue dis in my study?"

 

Only now, Remy realized that he was still naked beneath the towels. His face grew flustered and he quickly nodded his head. Jean-Luc wouldn't let this matter rest and he had better get dressed and join his father in the study.

 

///

 

Fifteen minutes later, Remy shuffled into Jean-Luc's study, feeling awkward and shy. He had slipped into some jeans and a blue sweater, but still felt naked and vulnerable.

 

"Ah, Remy, come sit wit' me." Jean-Luc signaled Remy to sit on the couch next to him.

 

Remy accepted the invitation, but sat down on the other end of the couch, putting distance between them.

 

Jean-Luc cleared his throat, reminding himself to treat this rationally for Remy's sake. "Remy, I assumed you 'ready knew what was happenin' to your body, considerin' your... prior experiences on de streets. I should have known betta."

 

Remy nodded his head, wondering what Jean-Luc really wanted to say.

 

"Let's have dat talk now?" After Remy nodded his head, Jean-Luc continued. He had prepared this speech years ago, but Henri had laughed at him when he had tried to explain this to his son and he had secretly been glad he didn't have to talk to Henri about sex. But now, he had to talk Remy through it.

 

"Chemical substances called hormones produced by de pituitary gland in your brain are responsible for de physical growth in several of the sex organs, among dem de penis and de testes. Dese hormones are also responsible for de changes you can' see. One of dese is de growth of sperm inside de testes. At 'bout de age of 13, sometimes earlier, many sperm have grown inside de testes, and are ready to be released. Your first ejaculation occurred durin' an erotic dream and it's your body's way of lettin' you know you're startin' to mature sexually. It's perfectly normal and natural." Jean-Luc drew in a deep breath, relieved he had managed to get it all out in one go.

 

Remy had listened quietly, not interrupting Jean-Luc, but now he couldn't keep silent any longer and chuckled. "You're blushin' poppa."

 

"Well, oui, it's de first time I had to deliver dis li'l speech... and we're only half way through!"

 

Remy smiled; Jean-Luc had achieved the impossible. Jean-Luc had driven away his panic and fear. "What else do I need to know?"

 

Jean-Luc told himself to get it over with. "It's also a sign dat you're physically able to fat'er children."

 

Remy chuckled again. "Poppa, I ain' havin' sex."

 

"Mais you might in de future..." Suddenly, Jean-Luc felt saddened; Remy had already had sex with men in the past who had paid to abuse the boy's body. This wasn't new territory to Remy, so why did it feel so awkward? "Dere's somethin' else I need to tell you."

 

Remy nodded once, waiting patiently and enjoying seeing Jean-Luc squirm.

 

"It's bien to say non if you don' want to have sex."

 

Jean-Luc's words impacted hard and Remy averted his eyes. When he had lived on the streets he hadn't had a choice and it meant a lot to him that Jean-Luc stressed this fact.

 

"Always remember dat, Remy, you 'ways have de right to say non." Jean-Luc searched Remy's eyes, which never hid a thing. "Don' let anyone force you to have sex, petit."

 

"I understand," Remy whispered, softly.

 

"One more thing..." Jean-Luc caressed Remy's face and was pleased when his son didn't flinch beneath the caress. "You never know who you’ll fall in love wit' and it shouldn' matter whether it's a man or a woman."

 

Remy averted his eyes. "Can never love a man like dat..." He shuddered, remembering the men who had paid him for a blowjob and Hugo's face appeared in his mind, making him relive horrid memories. Never, will never touch a man in dat way! Never 'gain!

 

"Remy? Do you understand dat havin' erotic dreams is normal and healthy?" Jean-Luc hoped his little speech had reassured Remy.

 

"Oui, I t'ink so." At least the panic was gone. "Merci for explainin' dis to me."

 

"I'll ask Mattie to adjust her lesson plan when she gets back and put sex education on it." Jean-Luc ruffled Remy's hair. "Wanna go back to sleep now?"

 

"I don' t'ink I can," Remy admitted, honestly.

 

"Wanna talk 'bout Belle?"

 

Remy nodded his head. "She's beautiful, non?"

 

Jean-Luc agreed. "Oui, she's très belle, mon fils." Looking forward to talking to Remy all night long, he smiled and listened to his son describe Belle's beauty. Remy's got it bad...

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	2. The Eyes of Child

Chapter seven.

Puberty

 

 

"Remy, you did extremely well on dis last test," Jean-Luc remarked, pleased. Remy had passed his first Guild test and had achieved the official status of Guild thief. "De next step is startin' your trainin' to become a master t'ief."

 

"Merci, m'sieur." Remy beamed with pleasure, proudly wearing his new body armor, which Jean-Luc had given him as a reward for passing the test. These last four years had been the best of his life. He had become part of the LeBeau family, Mattie had taught him to control his empathy and Henri acted like a real big brother. Life couldn't get any better and that scared him. Something awful was bound to happen to remind him that he couldn't be this lucky.

 

"Belle will come over for dinner tonight." Jean-Luc smiled, seeing Remy's eyes flare. Belle and Remy had become good friends through the years and although they were always chaperoned, Jean-Luc was certain they were also meeting in secret. It pleased him that they got along. Marius had agreed to let Belle marry Remy and he had seen the happy expression in Remy's eyes when he had told his son the good news.

 

Remy grinned. "Can I go now, poppa?" Now that the official part was over, he addressed Jean-Luc as poppa again. "Wanna take a shower and dress up bien for Belle."

 

"Mais oui, get goin', mon fils. Dinner's at eight." Jean-Luc watched him hurry out of his study and after Remy had left, he leaned back in his chair and indulged himself by smoking a Cuban cigar. Watching the smoke float through the room, he realized how proud he was of Remy. The boy had made a remarkable recovery through the years, but the process wasn't complete yet. Remy still had problems accepting his sexuality.

 

Remy didn't really want to discuss his problems, but his son still allowed him into his mind at times, offering Jean-Luc information which Remy couldn't put into words. Remy still felt like he didn't deserve Belle, although the young girl was extremely fond of him. But there were other things as well. I need to sit him down for anot'er talk...

 

///

 

Remy sighed, enjoying the stream of warm water that caressed his body. While washing his hair, he wondered why Belle was coming over for dinner. They had talked last night, when they had both sneaked out of their homes and she hadn't mentioned coming over for dinner. Had something happened? Non, she would have let him know. They had their ways of communicating secretly.

 

Relaxing, he closed his eyes and lathered his body with soap. Non, don' let it start 'gain... His groin stirred and his penis was growing hard, fed by his memories of Belle's lips on his. She had first kissed him two months ago. They had both been hesitant and feeling awkward, but then she had taken the initiative and had brushed his lips. He had almost jerked away from her, not expecting the kiss, but had forced himself to accept the caress.

 

He was painfully erect now, but still refused to touch himself. It was bad enough he couldn't stop the erotic dreams, but he was damned if he would come willingly. His body already betrayed him at night and he wasn't adding to his shame. I ain' touchin' myself! I ain' a john.

 

Then Jean-Luc's speech came back to him, telling him it was normal and healthy to feel aroused and he began to doubt again. What if his father was right and it was okay to touch himself? He had been tempted to make himself come several times, but had always resisted the temptation. Rationally, he knew that nothing terrible could come from touching himself, but emotionally he felt frightened.

 

Hesitantly, his right hand traveled down his chest and he curled his fingers around his aching erection. Jus' dis once...jus' dis once... He would never do it again if he felt bad afterwards. Stroking awkwardly, he tried to focus on the arousal that continued to build in his groin.

 

"Mon Dieu." He panted softly, moving his hips and trying to fuck his hand harder. His eyes grew bigger as he realized what he was doing, but he felt unable to stop. He was about to come and he had to finish, had to take off the pressure that had been building for so long.

 

Leaning against the cold tiles, he stared at the hard flesh, already leaking pre-ejaculate. He was close, so close... "Oh, Belle..." He sighed the name, pumped harder and, as the orgasm hit him he dropped on his knees, trembling over his whole body.

 

The sensation ebbed away and left him feeling dirty. Grabbing the sponge, he tried to wipe away his semen, desperately trying to clean himself up. Shouldn' have done dat... it's wrong... dey paid me to do dis for dem!

 

Feeling guilty and lonely, a strange tingling in his fingertips jerked him back to full awareness. His fingertips... were they glowing? Impossible... Suddenly, the sponge began to glow as well. Tiny sparkles energized the air around the sponge and a strangled moan left his lips. What was happening? Was this happening because he had jerked off? I'll be bien in future... Mon Dieu, please let dis stop!

 

But the glow intensified and acting instinctively, he threw the sponge away. It hit the floor with a wet thud and Remy quickly ducked when an explosion rocked the bathroom, sending pieces of shattered tile in his direction.

 

Mon Dieu, why? Why did I do it? I should have known betta dan to touch myself... when will I ever learn? Still feeling shocked, he stared at the hole in the floor. Fragments of tiles had been swept into his shower cabin and a few had even hit his legs, breaking the skin. He was bleeding and the blood mingled with the water that was still cascading down his body.

 

"Remy?" Jean-Luc knocked on the bathroom door. The explosion had rocked this wing of the house and he had been walking passed Remy's room when the eruption had occurred.

 

"Remy?" Remembering Remy's panic when the boy had first had an erotic dream, he persevered and continued knocking and calling his son's name. He had to make sure Remy was all right.

 

Startling from his misery, Remy feared Jean-Luc might simply storm inside; he sounded worried enough to pick the lock and enter without permission. "Jus' a mo...ment..." Remy grabbed a large towel and wrapped it around his body. Standing in the shower cabin, he felt paralyzed. Although he wanted to move, he couldn't.

 

"Remy, either you open de door right now or I'm pickin' de lock!" Jean-Luc felt truly worried by now. Remy's empathy was leaking and he was picking up on his son's fear and confusion. Something had terribly upset Remy.

 

"I can' move..." Remy said, hoping it was loud enough for Jean-Luc to hear. "Poppa?" Suddenly, he felt like the nine year old that Jean-Luc had taken in years ago. "Please, poppa?"

 

Alarmed, Jean-Luc picked the lock in under five seconds and stormed into the bathroom, only stopping when he reached the hole in the bathroom floor. "Remy, what happened?" Looking at his son, he lunged forward, alerted by the panicked expression in the alien eyes. He wrapped an arm around Remy, who was desperately clinging to the towel that hid his groin from view and practically dragged his son into the bedroom where he sat him down on the couch. "Remy?"

 

Jean-Luc's hands moved over his body, and Remy shivered violently. He knew his father was only checking for injuries, but he couldn't deal with the touches right now; flashbacks were about to surface and he had to get away from Jean-Luc.

 

Jean-Luc read the fear in Remy's eyes and stopped examining his son. Remy's shins were bleeding and another shard had hit his son in the chest. It was still buried in the flesh and he had to remove it and dress the wounds.

 

"Remy? Listen to me? Please? What happened? How did de hole in de floor get dere? Why are de tiles shattered?" Remy was still trembling and Jean-Luc grabbed the blanket from Remy's bed and wrapped it around his son. "Remy, look at me?"

 

"Can'... you'll be mad at me..." Ashamed, he lowered his eyes and stared at the floor.

 

"Remy, why won' you tell me what happened?" Jean-Luc cupped Remy's chin in the palm of his hand and lifted his son's face, trying to catch the evasive eyes. "Remy? You trust me, remember?"

 

Remy sighed brokenly and closed his eyes when Jean-Luc's were about to meet his. "I... did somet'in'... bad."

 

"Bad?" Jean-Luc frowned. "Remy, you’ve never misbehaved and you were in de shower. In how much trouble can you get while takin' a shower?" Which piece of the puzzle was he missing?

 

"I... touched myself..." Remy stuttered. He rocked slightly, and Jean-Luc reacted as he had hoped he would, by hugging him and holding him close. "I never did dat 'fore."

 

Jean-Luc rested Remy's head against his chest and soothingly rubbed his son's back. "You never bought my li'l speech, non?"

 

"I know it's normal to feel dat way," Remy started, trying to put his confusion into words. "Mais it's wrong for me to feel dat way." It had made more sense when he had thought about it, but now that he was speaking the words, it sounded stupid.

 

Jean-Luc forced himself to remain calm; knowing Remy needed him close and in control. "Why is it wrong for you to enjoy your body, petit? Didn' we talk 'bout dis years ago? It's been naggin' at you ever since?"

 

Remy nodded his head against Jean-Luc's chest. "It's wrong 'cause... 'cause..." Words failed him, as he recalled the numerous times that johns had paid him to perform a sexual favor.

 

Jean-Luc felt at a loss. "Remy? Don' do dis to yourself. You're punishin' yourself for somethin' someone else did to you. You had to survive and it was de only way you knew how. You have to stop punishin' yourself, petit."

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "It's jus' de way I feel."

 

"Remy, what aren' you tellin' me?" Jean-Luc heard Remy's breathing speed up and he held his breath involuntarily.

 

"De sponge began to glow... it started right after I'd... I'd..."

 

"After you came?" Jean-Luc tightened his embrace, feeling Remy tense up. "It's bien, petit. Jus' tell me what scared you."

 

"I'm fifteen, poppa... and I'm actin' like a bébé." Remy tried to compose himself, but in his mind he experienced the explosion all over again as he tried push the memory into the back of his mind.

 

Jean-Luc smiled. "Everyone should have a shoulder to cry on if dey feel like it." How the hell was he going to find out about the hole in the floor? "Remy, you said dat de sponge began to glow." Hopefully Remy would get the hint and would start talking again.

 

Jerked back to reality, Remy nodded his head. "It began slowly, den it glowed stronger... I... I t'rew it 'way from me... de explosion, I didn' expect it and de tiles shattered..."

 

"You're bleedin', Remy. We need to disinfect de wounds and put some bandages over dem. You still got a small piece embedded in your chest. Will you lemme help you?"

 

"Why did it happen? You told me it was bien to feel dat way, mais when I did... I finally found de courage to touch myself and den..." Remy rambled on, letting Jean-Luc rock him. It bothered him that he could change back to a small child when something upset him. It had already happened a few times and he hated needing Jean-Luc this badly. He was fifteen years old!

 

"Remy, you're a mutant... It's possible dat de empathy ain' your only gift." Jean-Luc pulled away from Remy and looked into the swimming eyes. "We'll examine dis later. First we need to tend to your wounds, petit."

 

"I'm sorry..." Remy cringed, looking over his shoulder at the ruined floor. "Why does nothin' go smoot'ly in my life?"

 

"Come wit' me, mon fils. We'll get de first aid kit and bandage your wounds." Jean-Luc got to his feet and waited for Remy to rise from the couch as well.

 

Clinging to the blanket, Remy followed Jean-Luc to his study.

 

"Sit down, petit."

 

Remy obeyed and sat down on the chair opposite Jean-Luc's desk. Jean-Luc kneeled in front of him and pushed back the blanket, revealing the still bleeding wounds. "Dis might sting."

 

Remy remained quiet while Jean-Luc disinfected the wounds and put some bandages over them. The shard sticking in his chest was beginning to hurt and he bit his bottom lip.

 

"Remy? I need to remove de blanket." Jean-Luc waited for Remy's permission. He sighed relieved as Remy dropped the blanket to his waist, revealing his chest.

 

Jean-Luc retrieved some pliers and gently removed the ceramic shard. A rivulet of blood flowed down Remy's chest and he quickly cleaned the wound. "Look at me, petit?"

 

Remy met Jean-Luc's eyes and saw the concern in them. Jus' want you to be proud of me, mais all I do is make t'ings worse. Why did you ever take me in? You should have sent me back to de Antiquary!

 

"Remy, you don' really mean dat. You know I love you and I'd never let de Antiquary hurt you. You're a gift, petit, and you brought a lot of love and pleasure into my life."

 

Remy quickly strengthened his shields, realizing he had been broadcasting. "Sorry..."

 

"Don' be sorry, Remy. It can' be easy for you, bein' a mutant and discoverin' a new power, mais I promise you dat we'll find out what happened." Jean-Luc tucked the blanket back around Remy's shoulders. "Want me to cancel dinner? I'm sure Belle and Marius will understand."

 

"Can' face dem right now..." Mon Dieu, he had been thinking of Belle when he had jerked off! He could never look her in the eyes again!

 

"I'll call dem and reschedule de dinner appointment." Jean-Luc felt more worried than he wanted Remy to know. Those months on the streets had done far more damage than he had initially thought. "Wanna stay wit' me tonight?"

 

"Can I?" He hated himself for being this dependent on Jean-Luc, but he really wanted his father's company.

 

"Oui." Jean-Luc nodded his head and got back to his feet. "Why don' you go to bed and I call Marius? I'll join you in a few minutes."

 

Remy rose from the chair and walked mechanically to the doorway. Napoleon suddenly appeared out of nowhere and mewed pitifully. Automatically, not even considering what he was doing, Remy bent down and picked up the tomcat, carrying it with him to Jean-Luc's bedroom.

 

Keeping the blanket wrapped tight around him, he realized that he wasn't wearing any clothes and pulled some sweats from Jean-Luc's closet. Although the clothes were too big for him, he slipped into the sweats and laid down on the bed. He had worn some of Jean-Luc's shirts before; they usually smelled of his father's spicy cologne and feeling the fabric against his skin gave him a sense of safety. Jean-Luc had never commented on it, just let him be for which he was immensely grateful.

 

Napoleon settled down in his arms and he hugged the tomcat close to his chest. The animal's mind soothed him and he almost slipped into sleep, but then the door opened and he sat upright in his bed... "Poppa..." he whispered relieved, seeing Jean-Luc step into the room.

 

"I told them somethin' unexpected came up. Dey were 'bout to head over here." Jean-Luc took in Remy's appearance, recognized his sweats, but didn't comment on it. "It's a bit early to go to sleep, non?"

 

Remy frowned; if it hadn't been Jean-Luc stepping inside, he would have been sound asleep. "I guess so." He pushed the pillow behind his back and leaned against it, half sitting, half lying down. "I'm scared," he admitted shyly.

 

Jean-Luc sat down on the side of his bed and uncovered a deck of cards. He had taught Remy Poker some months ago and the boy had turned out to be a natural. "Wanna play cards?"

 

"Why not?" Remy picked up his cards and studied them. Royal flush. Cards must really like me. Horrified, he felt the return of the tingling sensation in his fingertips. "It's happenin' 'gain!"

 

The fear in Remy's voice took Jean-Luc aback and he stared at the cards. It was true; one of them was beginning to glow. He had better open a window for Remy to throw it out of because he wanted his bedroom intact, without holes in the floor or ceiling. Within seconds, he covered the distance to the window and opened it. "T'row it!" He couldn't take any risks, not after seeing the hole in the bathroom floor.

 

Jean-Luc's voice finally penetrated Remy's mind and he threw the card out of the window. An explosion in midair followed and they stared at the smoke, floating through the dark evening sky.

 

"Dat was close." Jean-Luc closed the window again and returned to his bed. "Remy?"

 

"It happened 'gain, why? I wasn' bein' bad." Remy's eyes begged Jean-Luc to answer his question. "Why is dis happenin'?"

 

"It's 'cause you're a mutant, Remy. Dis isn' meant as punishment, Remy. Your powers are growin' stronger and a new one revealed itself. We need to figure out how to control it." Jean-Luc looked at the cards in Remy's hand. "You ain' strong enough yet to charge dem all, mais mebbe in time you will. First, it happened with a sponge and now with a card. You can charge inanimate objects wit' some sort of energy... a very destructive energy."

 

Remy listened, breathlessly, wondering how Jean-Luc could deal with this so rationally. "Mais I don' wanna have dis power! What if I blow myself or ot'ers up? What if I hurt you or Belle? Or Mattie?" His tone bordered on panic.

 

"We'll figure out how to control it, Remy." Jean-Luc saw the exhaustion in Remy's eye. "You didn' feel dis tired a moment ago, did you?"

 

"Feel drained... started after I t'rew dat card."

 

"Dat makes sense, Remy. You charged dat card wit' your energy. You need to rest to replace it." Jean-Luc helped Remy to lie down again and covered him with a blanket. "I want you to stay here where I can keep an eye on you."

 

Remy sucked in his breath. "What if I charge dis blanket and..."

 

"Remy, don' do dis to yourself." Jean-Luc carefully plotted his next move. "Would it make you feel betta if I stayed awake to watch you? Dat way I can wake you, should you start chargin' somethin'."

 

"Would you do dat? Mais dat means you can' sleep, not fair." But his eyes were closing and his breathing evened out as he fell asleep.

 

Watching Remy closely, Jean-Luc drew in a deep breath. "Jus' when I t'ought we'd overcome de worst problems another one pops up. How do I help you control dis?" The poor kid had to be terrified he would cause some horrible accident.

 

Lying down next to Remy, he encouraged his son to move closer. Remy rarely allowed him this close in his sleep, but the boy obviously needed the reassurance that he didn't have to deal with this on his own. Tucking his comforter around their forms, he held Remy close, already trying to figure out how to help Remy control his charging power.

 

///

 

"Remy? It's time to wake up, petit." Jean-Luc gently shook Remy's shoulders, trying to wake up his son. "Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes and you need to change your clothes." He hated waking Remy; the boy had had a bad night. Nightmares had tormented Remy's sleep and at one point, he had even screamed for help. Jean-Luc had done his best, trying to calm Remy down and in the end it had worked.

 

"Remy? Wake up!" He tried again, harder this time and Remy's eyes flashed open.

 

"Merde!" Remy cursed as the bright sunlight hit his retina. Quickly, he closed his eyes again and rolled onto his left, turning his back to the rising sun. Huh? What's dis? He was resting against a warm body and arms were wrapped around him, holding him tight. Opening his eyes again, he sighed relieved, seeing Jean-Luc's face. For one irrational moment he had been back in Philippe's room with Hugo holding him down. "Mornin', poppa."

 

"Mornin', Remy. Feelin' betta?"

 

Why did Jean-Luc look worried and why was he in his father's bed? "What... happened?" He rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on Jean-Luc's voice.

 

"You charged a sponge and later a card, do you remember, mon fils?" Jean-Luc half expected Remy to start trembling in his arms and yes, his son was starting to shake like a leaf. "Rien happened while you slept. Chargin' dose objects must have exhausted you."

 

"I'm dangerous," Remy whispered, scared. "What if..."

 

"Don' start wit' de 'what if's', Remy. I won' let anythin' bad happen to you. Right now, I want you to return to your room and get dressed. Join me for breakfast in fifteen minutes."

 

Remy nodded his head. "If I'm still 'live by den."

 

"Remy!"

 

"Poppa! What if blow myself up?" Remy couldn't suppress his fears any longer. "I shouldn' stay... too dangerous!" Tears pooled in his eyes and he struggled free from the comforter, finding himself dressed in Jean-Luc's sweats. "I could kill you accidentally!"

 

"I don' t'ink so," Jean-Luc said, trying to reassure Remy. "So far you only charged lifeless objects. If you accidentally charge another item, throw it as far 'way as possible."

 

Remy nodded his head. Shakily, he got to his feet and headed for the doorway. "Poppa? Je t'aime," he whispered, wondering if this new power would kill him. It might, if he failed to gain control over it.

 

"Remy..." Jean-Luc walked up to Remy and hugged him. "Trust me, everythin' will turn out bien. You've got to have fait' in yourself."

 

///

 

Remy returned to his room, but at the slowest speed possible, knowing he would find a gaping hole in the bathroom. When he finally stepped inside, he avoided looking at the bathroom and headed for the window. Lost in thought, his instincts kicked in too late. Two arms caught him around his waist and pulled him close. Ready to defend himself, he stared into a pair of sky blue eyes.

 

"Belle? What are you doin' here?" She had sneaked into his room before and he had managed to steal into her room as well, but only when they had talked about it on forehand. She looked as beautiful as ever; her hair was long and fair, her eyes sparkled with energy and her full red lips beckoned him seductively.

 

But then his panic returned. I t'ought 'bout her when I was jerkin' off! Quickly, he averted her eyes, hoping she hadn't read that thought accidentally. They had confided in each other about their abilities and it had taken him some time to get used to the idea of marrying a telepath. If it hadn't been for Mattie, he would have told Jean-Luc to call off the wedding, but Mattie had shown him that being close to a telepath didn't have to hurt.

 

"Remy, why did you cancel diner? I really needed to talk to you!" Taking in Remy's appearance she didn't have to use her telepathy to feel how shaken up he was. "You look bad, Remy."

 

Remy calmed down enough to accept her embrace and actually leaned into it. "Belle, I'm sorry, mais somet'in bad happened last night and..."

 

"Neit'er you nor Jean-Luc left de house, so..." Belle looked at him thoughtfully. "And why is dere a hole in de bat'room floor?"

 

"Oui, we need to talk," Remy realized. "Mais not here. I need to talk to you in private."

 

"I need to tell you somet'in' too," Belle said, failing to mask the excitement in her voice. "When can you sneak out? We can meet at our usual place." Belle had the keys to one of her brother's apartments and they used it as their hiding place where they could talk without Marius or Jean-Luc hovering over them.

 

"After lunch," Remy said thoughtfully. "I'll meet you dere after lunch, mais Belle, why did you come here? A phone call would have been easier. One of dese days you're gonna get caught..."

 

"And all de explainin' we'll have to do den!" Belle teased and looked into his eyes. Something was troubling Remy, troubling him deeply and maybe she could make him open up. Using her telepathy to find out what was wrong, was out of the question. She would never enter his mind without prior permission.

 

"I'll see you after lunch..." Belle walked toward the window and opened it. "Don' be too late. Julien's comin' back tonight and I don' want him to find out dat I know 'bout de apartment!"

 

Remy watched her leave, and sighed. He had to tell her about his sordid past. Until now, he had postponed telling her, but he owed it to her to come clean now that their fathers were discussing the wedding. She had a right to know what he really was.

 

///

 

"Remy!" Belle hurried toward the front door, opened it and stepped aside to let Remy pass. Oh, he's so handsome... Remy, I t'ink I'm fallin' in love wit' you. Her feelings were evolving from friendship to love and she was actually looking forward to turning eighteen so she could finally marry him.

 

"Belle, we need to talk... Can I go first?" Remy collapsed onto the couch and pulled up his legs.

 

Recognizing the defensive posture, Belle sat down beside him, keeping some distance between them. His shields had never been this tight before and telepathy-wise she couldn't pick up a single thing. Swallowing her own news, she nodded her head; sensing he had to get this out of his system. Mon Dieu, how bad can it be?

 

"I need to tell you 'bout my life on de streets." Remy sucked in his breath and watched as her expression turn puzzled.

 

"Life on the streets?" Belle moved a little closer. "What are you talkin' 'bout?"

 

"You know I ain' a real LeBeau? Dat Jean-Luc adopted me?"

 

"Oui." Belle nodded her head.

 

Remy closed his eyes, unable to maintain eye contact with her. This was it. "I spent de first nine years of my life as part of de Antiquary's Velvet Ministry." There, he had made a start, now he had to tell her the rest as well. "He named me Noir and fed off me when he felt weak. Dat's why I overreacted when you told me you were a telepat'."

 

"De Antiquary?" Her father had told her about the wizard and the children that made up his collection, but she had never known Remy had been part of it.

 

"He... raped my mind when feedin' off my energy... I decided to run 'way and I did." Remy lowered his shields and he sent her fragments of his stay with the Antiquary. Carefully, he showed her his pain and misery. "I couldn' stay."

 

Belle drew in a deep breath as the images washed through her mind. She gasped, feeling his pain and she finally began to understand some of his fears. "I would never hurt you, Remy." Please believe me, Remy. I will never hurt you!

 

I believe you, came Remy's reply. He had to continue his story before he lost his courage. "I ended up on Bourbon Street, didn' have any money or knowledge of de real world. I had to survive... I met a boy called Philippe and he..." Remy shook his head; he couldn't say the words.

 

"What Remy?" Remy was still broadcasting and she felt his pain, relived that first night on the streets with Remy, saw Philippe and cringed, seeing the track marks on his arms.

 

"Philippe became my pimp." Remy pinched his eyes tightly shut and tightened his shields, locking Belle out completely. He didn't want to feel her anger, her loathing and rejection.

 

"Your pimp?" Shocked, Belle stared at him in disbelief. "Your pimp?" Remy, dis can' be true!

 

"I sucked dem off for a few bucks, mais we needed de money to stay 'live." Remy still refused to open his eyes. "After a few months Philippe sold my virginity to a john and he raped me. I lost consciousness... it hurt so bad and when I woke up de john was gone and Philippe dyin'... I asked Jean-Luc to give Philippe a decent burial and he did..." Remy took a deep breath. "You deserve to know de trut' 'bout me, Belle. You should know you're marryin' a whore."

 

Belle shook her head in disbelief. "How old were you when dis happened?"

 

"Nine, ten? I don' really know... Don' even know my birt'day." Remy was surprised that she was still here, listening to him talk. "When Jean-Luc found me I was determined to change my life, mais was 'ready on my way to make money to score some dope. I would have been dead by now if Jean-Luc hadn' taken me in."

 

"Remy, I need time to... work through dis." Stunned, Belle rose from the couch. Looking at Remy, she realized he feared her reaction, her rejection. She couldn't leave like this. Although she craved some time alone she had to reassure him first. "Remy, open your eyes and look at me?"

 

Remy gathered his courage and looked at her. He expected to see anger and hate, but instead her eyes were filled with love and understanding. "You've got to understand, Belle. I ain' sure I can perform my marital duties... I can' even... I still get scared when..."

 

Belle rested a finger against Remy's lips, silencing him. "Remy LeBeau, dis changes nothin' and everythin'. I still like you, like you a lot, mais... it hurts to know dat you've been through this and never felt confident enough to tell me. We've been friends for years now and you knew I liked you... you should have told me a long time ago, but I understand dat you were afraid, you still are."

 

"You're right..." His eyes stung, but he was determined not to cry in front of her. "I'll understand if you wanna cancel de weddin'. You deserve so much betta."

 

"Non." Belle shook her head. "I want you. I want you, Remy LeBeau. We jus' have to find a way to deal wit' dis. I need a moment 'lone to t'ink, to accept dis. Stay here, and I'll be back in a few minutes. Jus' gimme a moment here, oui?" Trying to reassure him, she gave him a peck on the cheek. "You didn' lose me... dat's what you're afraid of, non?"

 

"Oui, don' wanna lose you, Belle, mais you're too bon for me. I don' deserve you."

 

She cringed, seeing tears pool in his exotic eyes. "We bot' need a moment to compose ourselves. I'll be back in a few minutes, oui?"

 

"Oui..."

 

"And remember, you didn' lose me..." Belle smiled reassuringly and then walked out of the room. She needed to clear her head and to deal with the memories that he had downloaded into her brain. Mon Dieu, de pain! He's in so much pain! She didn't go far and sat down on the stairs, trying to get back in control of her thoughts.

 

///

 

Remy hadn't moved and still sat motionless on the couch. He had pulled up his knees to his chest, placed his arms on top of his knees and rested his chin on his arms. I'm sorry I hurt you, Belle, never wanted to.

 

"I 'ways knew you were hidin' a secret."

 

The voice made him jump to his feet. Remy turned around and faced Belle's brother, Julien. How much had Julien heard? The icy expression in Julien's eyes answered his question, everything!

 

"You're a fuckin' whore! You don' deserve de name LeBeau and you certainly don' deserve my sister. I want you to stay 'way from her! My fat'er won' let you marry Belle once I tell him you're nothin' but a hustler!" Julien seethed with anger. "Stay away from Belle, you hear me?"

 

Remy was at a loss. Emotionally, he was still trying to deal with the fact that Belle now knew the truth and he was in no condition to deal with Julien, who had always hated his guts. "Why don' you let her decide?" Remy immediately regretted speaking up, as Julien's right connected with his chin. A sharp pain swept through his neck and he tried to lean against the wall for support, but his head was reeling. "Don' touch me!"

 

"What?" Julien stalked closer. "You sucked off your johns, but now I can' touch you?"

 

Remy shivered as Julien's anger and loathing crashed against his shields. He had to keep them up or his empathy would destroy him. Have to keep his hate out! He brought up his hands in front of his face, trying to protect himself when Julien's fist impacted again, but this time Julien targeted his stomach and Remy doubled over in pain.

 

"Stop it!" Belle stormed inside, threw herself at her brother and managed to knock Julien off his feet. "You heard him! Don' you touch him and get out! I won' have you beat up my future husband. Get out, Julien!"

 

Remy managed to get to his feet again and stared at Belle in amazement. She was defending him! Why? No matter what she had said earlier, she couldn't possibly still want him!

 

Julien glared at her, but headed for the doorway. "I'm headin' home to tell our fat'er dat you're marryin' a whore. Belle, you're a smart girl, come wit' me. Dere are enough young men out dere who wanna date you. You don' want him!"

 

"Mais I do!" Belle stood in front of Remy and when he tried to interrupt, she shook her head. "Don', dis is between Julien and me."

 

"Belle..."

 

"Go! I don' want you here!" Belle spat the words. Julien slammed the door behind him and she turned around to look at Remy. "Mon Dieu, I'm so sorry he hit you." A large bruise was beginning to disfigure Remy's chin and left cheek. Remy kept one arm wrapped around his stomach and she pushed him back onto the couch. "Sit down and lemme have a look."

 

"Non." Remy desperately held onto his shirt.

 

"Remy?"

 

"Non, don'... it's not dat bad."

 

"You don' want me to touch you?" Belle blinked her eyes in sudden understanding. "I ain' gonna hurt you, Remy."

 

"I know dat..." Remy swallowed hard. "Dere are times when I can' bear Jean-Luc's touch eit'er. It ain' you, Belle, it's me..."

 

"I t'ink I understand. Dese men hurt you bad in de past..."

 

"Oui, dey did and dat's why you needed to know de trut'." Remy's instincts told him to move away from her when she placed her hand on top of his, but he remained motionless, watching her fingers rub his knuckles. "Belle, you don' want damaged goods."

 

"Dat's where you're wrong, cher," she whispered, while bringing the back of his hand to her lips. Gently, she kissed each knuckle. "I do want you, Remy... only you."

 

Remy couldn't suppress his emotions any longer and dropped his shields, shyly inviting Belle in. She accepted the invitation and caressed his mind. We'll do dis toget'er, Remy... I'll jus' have to cancel my plans.

 

What plans? Remy looked into her eyes, feeling her nervousness. He felt her affection for him and he didn't doubt she really liked him, but she was hiding something from him nonetheless.

 

"My fat'er wants to send me to Europe. He t'inks I can learn new skills from our overseas relatives." The sadness in Remy's eyes made her inch closer. "Can I hold you?"

 

Remy nodded his head and wrapped his arms around her as well. "How long would you be gone?"

 

"Years," Belle whispered. "I'd return a few weeks before our weddin'."

 

Remy sensed how important this was to Belle. She wanted to go, had been all excited about it and then he had spoiled it by telling her about his past. "Don'... don' give dis up for me. We can write, call... Dis is important to you and your Guild. You should go."

 

"Are you sure? Remy, I don' wanna leave you." Belle wasn't sure what had priority; staying with Remy or adding new skills Marius couldn't teach her. One day, she might lead the Assassins' Guild and she had to be sure her people respected her. If she was found lacking, they would never support her.

 

"I'm sure," Remy whispered. "Go to Europe. We'll keep in touch, chère." His heart was breaking, but he knew he couldn't deny her. "Everyt'in' will be bien."

 

Belle relaxed in Remy's arms and rested her head against his chest. Mon Dieu, I really love him... I don' wanna leave him, mais I have to. I promise I'll be back, Remy. I promise to make you happy... I promise.

 

///

 

Jean-Luc's heart felt heavy as he watched Remy return home. His staff had told him about Belle's visit and Remy sneaking away, and he had allowed it, knowing something important had happened. But when he noticed the growing bruises on Remy's chin, he realized he couldn't pretend nothing had happened. "Remy, my study, now."

 

Remy jumped, startled, hearing Jean-Luc's voice. He had almost made it back to his room and didn't expect his father to be this close. "Oui, m'sieur," he replied, recognizing Jean-Luc's serious tone. He followed Jean-Luc into his study and waited until his father told him to sit down.

 

"Who put dat bruise dere?" Jean-Luc's tone was controlled, but still full of concern. It worried him that Remy refused to meet his eyes. "Remy, who did dis!"

 

"Julien." Remy didn't dare look at Jean-Luc, realizing he had to come clean. "I told Belle 'bout bein' a hustler and..." He paused to take a deep breath. "It's impossible but she still wants to marry me."

 

"Did she do dis?" Jean-Luc's feelings of protectiveness were getting stronger. Someone had hurt his son, had dared to lay his hands on Remy! He couldn't let this pass unpunished.

 

"Non, not Belle, she'd never hurt me..." Remy's words were barely audible. "We didn' know Julien was in de next room or I would never had told her at dat moment. He overheard our conversation and got angry at the t'ought dat Belle would be marryin' a whore."

 

"Remy, you ain' a whore."

 

"Mais I was one." Remy's fingernails dug into the armrest. "Julien said he was gonna tell Marius and make sure Belle and I would never get married."

 

Jean-Luc was about to reply when a knock on the door interrupted them. "What?"

 

"Monsieur LeBeau?" The servant didn't get a chance to finish the announcement as Marius slammed the door to Jean-Luc's study open.

 

"Marius." Jean-Luc rose from behind the desk and walked toward Marius, trying to gauge the other man's feelings. Jean-Luc's eyes turned cold, seeing Julien enter as well. "You're welcome in my home, but not your fils."

 

Marius nodded his head and sought out Remy's eyes. Remy flinched, lowered his eyes and wished the floor would open up and swallow him.

 

"Jean-Luc, Remy, Julien wants to tell you somethin'." Marius roughly pushed Julien toward the two thieves. "Say it, Julien."

 

Julien hissed, "I apologize for hittin' you, Remy. I shouldn' have done dat."

 

It was obvious to everyone that the apology was a lie. Julien didn't regret a thing and Remy shivered, picking up on Julien's hatred for him.

 

"Mon fils had no right to react de way he did." Marius walked toward Remy and waited for the young thief to rise from the chair. Although Remy still refused to meet his gaze, Marius continued. "Julien told me 'bout your past, den Belle came to me, tellin' me how hard it had been for you to confess your past to her and dat Julien had been eavesdroppin'. She also told me she's determined to marry you in t'ree years and I love her dearly, love her so much that I’ll give her what she wants."

 

Remy shyly peeked at Marius, wishing the man's shields weren't that strong so he would know what Marius really felt. Was the man just acting?

 

"In t'ree years, when she comes back after completin' her trainin', de two of you will marry." Marius hoped he was doing the right thing. Hearing Remy had been a hustler had shocked him and he had been tempted to cancel the wedding, but Belle had set him straight, telling him Remy had admitted everything to her and he had been furious at hearing how Julien had misbehaved. His son had dishonored him by acting the way he had.

 

Seeing Remy's confusion, Jean-Luc replied for his son. "We accept Julien's apology, but I suggest you discipline him nonet'eless. He was way out of line punchin' Remy for bein' honest to Belle."

 

Marius nodded his head. "He will be punished."

 

Remy cringed, seeing the hate in Julien's eyes. Averting his eyes, he looked at his father and found Jean-Luc smiling at him. Lowering his shields, he listened to his father's thoughts.

 

Everyt'in' will be bien, Remy. Have fait' in Belle and in yourself.

 

Merci, poppa. Julien and Marius left the study and Remy walked over to his father, shyly wrapping his arms around him. "I wouldn' have made it wit'out you, poppa."

 

Jean-Luc smiled and Remy rested his head against Jean-Luc's chest. At least I know one t'ing for sure now...

 

And what’s dat, Remy?

 

Belle really likes me... Mais it'll be t'ree years 'fore I can see her 'gain.

 

You can call her, or write, Remy. You have to complete your studies as well and pass your final Guild test in two years. You'll make a great master t'ief and you'll be de first at so young an age. You make me proud, mon fils.

 

Remy nodded his head against Jean-Luc's chest. His father was right. He should concentrate on completing his training and he would find ways to stay in contact with Belle. Everything would be fine in the end.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter eight.

Changes.

 

Please remember that this story is AU. I'm taking liberties with Belle's death as I've been unable to read the comics that deal with her last moments.

 

"Here, accept dis token of the Guild's appreciation," Jean-Luc said in a formal tone, handing Remy a small metallic box. Remy turned eighteen today and although it pained Jean-Luc that he couldn't tell his son that it was his birthday, he had found a way to give Remy this gift anyway. Remy had passed his final test and was now the youngest master thief the Guild had ever known.

 

"Merci, m'sieur." Remy accepted the box and wondered about its content. Cautiously, he opened it. Inside, surrounded by black velvet, he found a short metallic tube. "M'sieur?"

 

Jean-Luc took the metal tube out of the box and showed Remy where to push to make it extend. "It's a bo staff, Remy. It'll aid you when fightin' your enemies." After retracting it, he placed it in Remy's hand. "Now you try it."

 

Remy's sensitive fingertips found the correct spot to make the bo staff extend again and he swirled it exploratory, trying to get a feel for it. "It's a beau weapon. Merci."

 

"Remy," Jean-Luc started and folded one arm around his son's shoulder, "Belle returned home today and tomorrow's de weddin'. Are you nervous?"

 

"Un peu," Remy admitted, collapsing the bo staff and slipping the metal tube into one of his pockets.

 

"What do you worry most 'bout?" Jean-Luc sat Remy down on the chair opposite his desk and settled down in his own chair, while studying his son. At eighteen, Remy was a grown man, capable of taking care of himself. Still, he worried about his son. It had started after Belle had left for Europe and Julien had tried to beat Remy up. After that incident, Remy had begun building emotional defenses, building a mask to hide behind, acting arrogant and cocky whenever strangers were close. Except for Jean-Luc, only Mattie, Henri and maybe Belle knew how vulnerable Remy really was. Jean-Luc hated it when that mask snapped into place.

 

"What I worry most 'bout?" Remy blushed, shyly. "Consummatin' de marriage, poppa." Although he had convinced himself it was okay to jerk off, he still felt uncomfortable after making himself come and nothing Jean-Luc said or did, would change that. Now they expected him to make love to Belle, but he wasn't sure he could perform under pressure. "I've never been with a fille 'fore, poppa."

 

"Mais you know what to do..."

 

"Oui, I know what to do, mais..." Remy didn't finish his sentence. "I've been havin' flashbacks 'gain."

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head. He had walked in on Remy rocking on the floor, banging his head against the wall, trying to rid himself of the horrid memories. It had started after Marius had told them that Belle was on her way back to New Orleans. Remy was nervous and felt pressured and that was bringing back the flashbacks. "Belle knows what you've been through and she still loves you. Remy, have fait' in her."

 

"Merci, poppa." Remy fumbled the sleeve of his long leather coat, which Jean-Luc had given him a year ago. He had long figured out that this was Jean-Luc's way of celebrating his birthday and it always happened on the same day, May first. "I'm scared I'll disappoint her."

 

"Remy, de two of you have been on de phone 'most constantly. You know how she feels 'bout you, de distance didn' change dat."

 

"I know dat, mais..." Remy decided to change the subject. "Who will be performin' de ceremony tomorrow?"

 

"Mattie." That should reassure Remy and it did. Jean-Luc smiled warmly. "De ceremony will only take a few minutes and den you'll retreat to consummate de marriage and den... den you'll go on your honeymoon to Aruba!"

 

Remy licked his lips. "Don' you or Tante have some sort of potion dat will make sure I can perform?" He really didn' want to disappoint Belle. She would probably proclaim she had lost her virginity to him even if nothing had happened, just to save his face, but he didn't want her to lie.

 

"I'd rather have you didn' resort to dat." Jean-Luc got to his feet and walked over to Remy, who rose from his chair as well. "I know you're nervous, every groom is, mais you'll feel betta after de ceremony when you're 'lone wit' Belle. She'll guide you through it, dat's our way."

 

Remy fell into step beside Jean-Luc as they headed for the dinning room where Mattie was serving diner. Jean-Luc's words hadn't taken away his worries, but he felt relieved, having someone to talk to about his most private fears. I'll jus' have to put my trust in Belle... she'll guide me t'rough it...

 

///

 

Remy felt uncomfortable wearing a black tuxedo, but Jean-Luc had insisted he dress up for the wedding. He pushed one finger between his collar and his throat, trying to ease the stiff fabric a bit so he could breathe more easily. It's a good t'ing I control my kinetic charges now or I'd have blown somet'in' up by now!

 

Learning how to control his kinetic energy had been trying, but Jean-Luc had succeeded in teaching him control. He smiled, thinking back to the days when his power had just manifested. Jean-Luc had forced him to charge cards in the morning and evening, exhausting him until he was near collapse. Feeling empty and drained, he would warn Jean-Luc whenever he felt the power building again and day after day they had repeated that procedure until he finally managed to only release his kinetic energy when he wanted to. He still used the cards, finding them perfect to charge and throw at possible enemies.

 

"Remy? What are you thinkin' 'bout?" Jean-Luc walked his son down the aisle.

 

Remy smiled. "'Bout you teachin' me how to control my chargin' power. Did I ever say t'ank you?"

 

"A million times, Remy," Jean-Luc said, grinning. "You'd betta concentrate on Belle though."

 

"Oui, you're right, of course." Remy swallowed hard, reaching the symbolic circle Mattie had drawn on the floor. Jean-Luc stepped away from him, leaving him alone. Looking down the aisle, he waited for Belle to join him.

 

When she finally appeared, his mouth went dry and shivers traveled down his spine. She had grown even more beautiful in the three years during which he hadn't seen her. Her white gown was made of satin and embroidered with hundreds of pearls. A silk veil hid her face from view, but she was reaching out telepathically and he answered that call. You're très jolie, Belle.

 

Merci, chèr, you're lookin' handsome yourself. Belle smiled as Marius let go of her hand and she stepped into the circle as well, studying Remy closely, liking what she saw.

 

Remy barely heard Mattie's welcome, too focused on Belle. Do you still wanna marry me? It ain' too late to say non.

 

Remy, I still want you. Nothin' changed. Belle extended her hand and Remy curled his fingers around hers. The touch was electric and she grinned behind her veil, looking forward to being alone with Remy later.

 

"Remy! De vow!" Mattie repressed her grin, seeing them this absorbed in each other. She sensed the telepathic conversation, but wasn't privy it.

 

Remy startled and looked at Mattie. Oui, de vow... Mon Dieu, it's my turn!

 

Belle giggled privately, sensing his nervousness.

 

"Bella Donna Boudreaux, I promise to love and honor you and to be fait'ful to you. I'll lay my life down to save yours... Je t'aime, chère." Sorry for de lame vow, Belle, mais I ain' good wit' words.

 

It's very romantic, Remy, Belle reassured him and watched as Tante tied a silk scarf around their hands, binding them together. Mattie continued to wrap the fabric around their wrists as well and Belle knew it was time for her vow.

 

"Remy LeBeau, I promise to be a good wife, to love and support you. I love you and accept you as my husband for de period of five years." It was the maximum time span allowed among thieves and assassins. In five years they would either repeat their vows or go their separate ways. It was the way of the Guilds.

 

Mattie nodded her head and gave them her blessing. Tightening the scarf around their wrists, she said, "Belle, you may kiss Remy now."

 

Belle pushed her veil aside and smiled at him. Remy fought his blush as Belle leaned in closer to brush his lips. According to their custom, the man was the passive one, allowing his wife to take the initiative and control their lovemaking. "Je t'aime, Belle."

 

"Je t'aime, Remy."

 

"De hand-fastin' is complete. Let it be known dat Remy and Belle are now husband and wife," Mattie proclaimed proudly and unwrapped the scarf, releasing them.

 

"Non, stop! I won' allow dis!"

 

The anger in those words was palpable and Remy recognized the voice at once. "Julien..."

 

Belle turned to face her brother, her eyes seething with rage as well. "How dare you ruin' de best day of my life!"

 

Julien had fought his way through the crowd and was now standing in front of Remy. Clutching his glove, he cracked it across the thief's face. "I challenge you to de deat'! You ain' good enough for my sister and you know it! I can' stand by and let her ruin her life!"

 

"Julien..." Marius' tone shook with warning.

 

"It's too late! De challenge has been issued," Jean-Luc whispered into Marius' ear. Julien had surprised him as well.

 

Marius' eyes became sad. Only a moment ago his heart had sung with happiness for his daughter and now Julien was ruining everything. Why had he allowed Julien to attend the wedding? He knew Julien still hated Remy with a passion. "Julien will kill Remy. Mon fils is an assassin."

 

Jean-Luc wasn't so sure about that, knowing how inhumanly fast and agile Remy was. "Choice of weapons?"

 

Julien heard the question. "He can choose whatever he wants. I choose de sword."

 

And de tip is poisoned. It would take all his cunning to come out of this one alive. Mais dat means I have to kill him! Belle will never forgive me if I kill Julien!

 

Belle felt torn. She didn't want to have to chose between her brother and her husband. "Julien, please reconsider."

 

"Non, Belle, my mind's made up." Lowering his voice, he added, "De whore won' touch you!"

 

Remy flinched, knowing Julien intended those words for Belle's and his ears only. "Belle?"

 

"Fight him," Belle said calmly. "He's a fool for challengin' you to de deat'. I will mourn his passin', mais won' hold his deat' 'gainst you, chèr." She had made her choice.

 

"I choose de sword as well."

 

"Are you sure, Remy?" Jean-Luc hurried to Remy's side. "You're free to pick the weapon of your choice."

 

"I'm sure," Remy replied, confidently. 

 

Remy's mask slipped into place and Jean-Luc hated seeing the cockiness that masked his son's real feelings. "Remy, you have to know I will be forced to banish you if you kill Julien. Marius will demand I punish you."

 

Remy's heart missed a beat, but the mask remained in place, the glare in his eyes hardening. Damn you, Julien. No matter what I do, I'll lose. If I don' accept your challenge I will lose Belle 'cause I didn' want to fight for her and if I kill you, I'll lose Jean-Luc, Mattie and mebbe Belle... "I accept de challenge," he said formally and stepped out of the circle to face his nemesis.

 

///

 

Jean-Luc, Marius, Mattie, Henri and Belle watched as Remy's sword targeted Julien's chest, breaking the skin and the poisoned tip buried itself deeply in the Assassin's flesh. The two men had been fighting for ten minutes now and Remy had gained the upper hand. Julien was definitely outclassed.

 

Julien collapsed and remained motionless. A dark stain was forming on the earth; he was bleeding.

 

Marius was the first to take action and hurried to his son's side, checking Julien's vital signs. They were incredibly weak and Julien would die from the injury that Remy had inflicted. Except if I can get him home in time and give him de Elixir. Calling his men, he ordered them to take Julien home and to tend to his needs. Turning toward Remy, he stared into draped alien eyes. "Julien will die."

 

Remy cringed. "I didn' want to kill him!"

 

"Jean-Luc, I demand you banish your son from N'awlins." Marius ignored Belle's soft pleas.

 

"Mais Julien issued de challenge himself! Remy didn' have a choice!" Belle's big eyes begged Marius to see things her ways. "Don' take Remy 'way from me!"

 

"It was his decision to accept de challenge... If Julien dies I'll hunt you down," he spat, his anger directed at Remy. "Jean-Luc, if you want de truce between T'ieves and Assassins to continue you'll banish your son within de hour!" Marius grabbed Belle's right arm and pulled her along as he headed for his home.

 

"Remy!" Belle tried to catch Remy's eyes and when she did, she gasped, seeing the pain there. Je t’aime, Remy!

 

"Remy, we need to talk." Jean-Luc steered Remy away from the crowd. "If I deny Marius, T'ieves and Assassins will start fightin' 'gain."

 

Remy perfected the mask he was wearing, not even showing Jean-Luc how he really felt. "So you're sendin' me 'way?"

 

"I don' have a choice, Remy." Jean-Luc couldn't believe this was happening. Only an hour ago everything had been perfect. "You remember de list of safe houses I made you memorize?" After Remy nodded, Jean-Luc continued. "Dey're yours. Use de money from de trust fund I put in your name. Contact Marcel, he'll give you all de information you need to access de money. Leave N'Awlins, I don' want Marius findin' you. He's mad as hell. Go to our safe house in Lafayette and stay there. I'll try to join you as quickly as possible. Let's pray Julien lives."

 

Remy moved mechanically, registering Jean-Luc's words, but barely understanding them. He had lost the only home and family he had ever had.

 

///

 

Listlessly, Remy sat on the couch in their Lafayette home. Jean-Luc had brought him here once or twice, but he had never expected to hide here one day. The moment Julien had issued his challenge his world had collapsed. No matter which decision he made, he had already lost the game. Now Jean-Luc had banished him from New Orleans and he was on his own again... like nine years ago...

 

Mais dere are differences, the rational part of his mind reminded him. You have more money dan you can ever spend and t'anks to Jean-Luc you own houses all over de planet. You don' have to prostitute yourself to stay 'live.

 

That much was true, but he still ached inside from the loss of his family. How was he going to cope on his own? And what about Belle? She was bound to him for five years... would she join him or stay in New Orleans? Would Marius give her a choice?

 

"Remy! I came as fast as I could!" Jean-Luc entered the room, disposed of his long coat and sat beside Remy on the couch. Remy moved away from him and seeing Remy distance himself made him cringe. Mon Dieu! Remy was shutting him out! "I didn' wanna banish you, Remy, mais... I had to t'ink of de Guilds. We fought for so long and..."

 

"You don' have to explain yourself," Remy said, coldly. "I'll be out of your hair once I decided where to go."

 

"Oh, Remy!" Jean-Luc was trembling, realizing he was losing Remy. "Je t'aime, petit. Don' do dis to us!"

 

Remy laughed, embittered. "Non, you made your choice. You chose de Guilds over your adopted fils. Should have known you'd make dat decision." Den it wouldn' have hurt dat bad.

 

Jean-Luc's eyes were watering, but he fought the tears. "Remy, you're t'inkin' you can protect yourself from de pain by shuttin' me out. Don' you know it doesn' work dat way?"

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "It has to. I lost everyt'in' today."

 

"Remy, please, at least look me in de eyes when you're talkin' to me." Jean-Luc reached out, trying to rest his hand on top of Remy's, but the young man jerked away from him. "Mon fils..."

 

"Don' call me dat! You'd never banish Henri!" Remy jumped to his feet and began pacing the room. "What do I do now? How long will it take de Antiquary to realize dat I'm no longer under your protection? I ain' used to bein' 'lone and now I have to figure out how to deal wit' de loneliness!"

 

Jean-Luc acted at once, prompted by Remy's obvious panic. He walked over to his son and determinedly wrapped his arms around him. Remy tried to pull away, but Jean-Luc didn't let him. "Je t'aime, Remy. Nothin's changed."

 

"Everyt'in's changed." Remy stood motionless. "What do I do now?"

 

Jean-Luc guided Remy back to the couch. "Sit down, Remy." He didn't let go when they settled down on the couch. "You'll travel, ply your t'ievin' skills. We'll stay in contact and I'll talk some sense into Marius."

 

"What 'bout Belle? Will I ever see her 'gain?"

 

"I don' know, wish I knew de answer, mais don' count on it." Jean-Luc held Remy tight, rocking him slightly. "I'll ask Marcel to stay wit' you." He trusted Marcel; the middle-aged man had been with him for twenty years and had never let him down.

 

"Non, Marcel's place is at your side." Embarrassed that he had let go of his emotions, Remy wiped away his tears. "I can do dis on my own."

 

"Remy, I trust you, you know dat, mais..." Emotionally, you're in no condition to be 'lone.

 

"I'll jus' have to grow up a little faster," Remy said, trying to sound energetic. "I have to learn to fly on my own, poppa. You can' help me no more. You did a great job raisin' me. You and Tante bot'...and Henri. Mon Dieu, I'll miss Napoleon."

 

"Don' give up hope yet, Remy. Julien might improve. Marius is very secretive 'bout his condition. My guess is dat he's tryin' to feed Julien de Elixir."

 

"Dat makes sense." Jean-Luc had mentioned the Elixir a few times before and he knew how powerful it was. It might save Julien's life. "Do you t'ink I'll be allowed back if he recovers?"

 

"I don' know, Remy. I do hope so..." Jean-Luc released Remy from his embrace. "Stay close for a while?"

 

"Non." Remy shook his head. "I'd betta put some distance between Marius and me. Dere's no way of knowin' what de Assassins will do if Julien dies."

 

"Where will you be headin', mon fils?"

 

"Europe, mebbe."

 

"I don' like dis, Remy, don' like dis at all. You belong wit' me in N'awlins." Jean-Luc wondered how much longer he could fight his tears. He loved Remy like his own flesh and blood and they hadn't been separated for nine years. They had always been together. "I feel like I'm losin' you, petit."

 

Remy nodded his head. "I feel de same way, poppa. I don' wanna lose you eit'er." Cherishing Jean-Luc's closeness, he realized he would never feel this warm and protected again.

 

///

 

The sharp ring of the phone startled Remy into action and he answered the call, wondering who knew he was here except Jean-Luc. "Oui?"

 

"Remy? It's Belle! Mon Dieu, I can' believe Marius did dat to us!"

 

Remy swallowed hard, feeling miserable and guilty. "I'm sorry, Belle, didn' know what to do. I didn' have a choice. If I hadn' fought him I would have lost you."

 

Belle sighed. "Remy, Julien... he's in a bad way. Marius is keepin' everyone out of his study, mais I've heard screams... dey hardly sounded human."

 

"Do you t'ink Marius is tryin' to feed him de Elixir?"

 

"I hope not... Dere's no way of tellin' what drinkin' de Elixir would do to a dyin' man, mais enough of Julien. How are you copin', Remy? Did you 'ready leave N'Awlins?"

 

"I had to, Belle."

 

"Where are you now?"

 

"I can' tell you, Belle, I'm sorry, mais I promised Jean-Luc to keep my hidin' place a secret. Wish I could tell you, Belle, wish I could see you."

 

"Non, you're right... I understand... you ain' comin' back, are you?"

 

"I don' t'ink so, Belle. Mebbe if Julien recovers and Marius calms down I can return to N'Awlins, mais right now I can'."

 

"What are you gonna do, Remy?"

 

"I t'ink I'll do what you did; go to Europe and try to learn from our overseas brot'ers and sisters. I may be a master t'ief, mais I sure got a lot to learn. Don' worry 'bout me, Belle. I won' give up on you, mebbe we'll be toget'er soon. Mon Dieu, I hope so..."

 

"Chèr, be careful? Julien and Marius might send deir Assassins after you. Promise me to watch your back, Remy."

 

Remy gripped the armrest hard, burying his fingernails in the wood. "Means a lot to me dat you still care, chère."

 

"I'll always care," Belly vowed. "Remy, I've gotta go... I can hear Marius yellin'..."

 

"Take bon care of yourself, chère..."

 

"I will," Belle promised and then her voice was gone.

 

Remy stared at the phone in his hand and listened to the beeping, realizing Belle was gone. The phone dropped onto the table with a loud thud, but Remy didn't care. Just when he thought things couldn't get worse, they had. He had lost Belle as well.

 

///

 

Six months later, his heart still ached with longing. He had seen most of Europe, had traveled through Greece, Italy, Turkey, France and was now staying in London. He lived a life of luxury; his money enabled him to stay in the most expensive hotels and now he was heading for a manor house just outside London that belonged to the LeBeau's.

 

During the last half year he had been in constant contact with his family. Jean-Luc, Tante and Henri called him regularly and they had had long conversations over the phone. But Belle had never called him again and he didn't feel brave enough to call her, for fear Marius might answer the call.

 

Jean-Luc had told him that Marius had proclaimed Julien's death 48 hours after Remy had left New Orleans, but there were rumors that Julien wasn't dead at all; that the Elixir had made him into a zombie, the living dead. Hearing that, Remy had lost all hope of ever returning to New Orleans, Marius would never allow him back to New Orleans.

 

That also meant that he would never see Belle again. The last time Tante and he had talked, she had told him that Belle was doing well, taking over more and more of Marius' responsibilities and she was preparing herself to take over leadership of the Assassins' Guild very soon. Although he was happy she was doing this well, it made him feel even more alone.

 

Six months of loneliness were almost enough to drive an empath crazy. He had never realized just how much he had needed Jean-Luc and Mattie's love, but now that he couldn't have it, he felt empty and drained. There were days when he just wanted to lie down, go to sleep and never wake up again.

 

Driving up to the manor, he quickly scanned it, his eyes never missing anything out of the ordinary that could indicate he was in danger. The old manor house looked deserted and peaceful. Maybe he would find some peace of mind here.

 

After putting his Ferrari into park, he left the car and walked up to the house, carrying his duffle bag. The solicitor in London that represented the LeBeau’s had already handed him the key. After closing the front door behind him, he dropped the bag onto the floor and climbed the stairs in search of a bedroom.

 

It was beyond him why he was still trying to carry on, feeling as tired as he did. Suddenly, a loud noise attracted his attention. It came from the outside and within seconds he had uncovered and extended his bo staff, ready to fight off any Assassins.

 

Running downstairs, he slammed the front door open and halted in his tracks, taking in the scene in front of him. It was Belle, fighting off some horrible creatures, which he had never seen before. Belle, what are you doin' here? Why now, after six mont's of silence?

 

Reacting at once, he ran toward her, trying to take out several of the creatures that were attacking Belle. "Hold on!" Belle's eyes locked with his and her mind reached out to touch his, welcoming his presence.

 

The creatures moved in, using the fact that Belle was distracted to their advantage. Two sharp claws slowly penetrated her armor and buried themselves in her heart.

 

"NON!" Remy cried out in horror, seeing her go down. "NON, get 'way from her!" Using his kinetic power, he charged several cards and threw them at the creatures. They still didn't back down and he wanted to wipe the smug grin from their alien faces. Belle was slipping away from him; she was dying.

 

Crying out in pain, he released his empathy. The creatures seemed to shrink into themselves and backed away from them, leaving as quickly as they had appeared. Remy ran over to Belle's fallen body and kneeled at her side. Gently, he pushed his arms beneath her body and pulled her close to his chest. "Belle, you can' leave me now... you have to fight, chère!"

 

Belle's eyes opened and fastened on Remy's. "Mon coeur," she sighed the words, growing short of breath. "I wish I hadn' lead dem here."

 

"Who are dey?" Remy rocked her slowly, never letting go of her gaze.

 

"De Brood, be 'ware of dem, chèr." Belle managed to curl her fingers around Remy's. A soft smile appeared on her lips. "Remy, I wanted to tell you..."

"What, chère? Why come here?" Tears flowed down his face. "Why not stay in N'Awlins where you were safe?"

"Had to tell you... still love you... Je t'aime, Remy..." Her last breath carried his name to the wind, her eyes broke and her fingers slipped from his.

 

"Non, Belle, non, you can' leave me like dis... please, chère, please!" Rocking her in his arms, he sobbed, releasing his pain and loss. Just when he had thought things couldn't get worse, they had. Belle had died in his arms and he had been unable to save her.

 

"I'll return your body to N'Awlins, chère, I promise I'll take you home..." He couldn't personally escort her body back home, but his father would surely take care of the matter. Right now, he didn't want to think about handing over her body; right now he just want to hold and rock her.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter Nine

Sinister

 

 

I no longer care. I just don' care what's goin' to happen to me. Life lost all meanin' after Belle died. Jean-Luc collected her body and personally escorted her back home. Alt'ough he had to leave shortly after arrivin', I could tell by the look in his eyes dat he didn’ want to leave. I miss havin' him close and I felt a similar loneliness in his mind. Jean-Luc wanted me close as well, mais it was his duty to take Belle back to N'Awlins, leavin' me alone 'gain.

 

Belle died in my arms four weeks ago and I still can' stop mournin' her deat'. I loved her and losin' her broke my heart. I guess I always hoped we would find a way to be toget'er again. I should have known I wouldn' be dat lucky.

 

How am I goin' to cope alone?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A violent explosion rocked the peaceful landscape and Remy tried to control the kinetic energy that was leaking into the cards through his fingertips. He had returned to the USA a few days ago and the first thing he had done was leave San Antonio. The kinetic energy was getting harder to control and he couldn't endanger people's lives.

 

For the last few days he had been living like a hermit, seeking refuge in the deserted countryside. Here, he couldn't hurt anyone and it became easier to accept that his powers were out of control. The more miserable he felt, the stronger the kinetic energy became and it needed a way out. He was getting desperate, wondering how much time he had until he blew himself up. The question was, did he want to continue living? He had lost everything and there was nothing left to fight for. Why not let the kinetic energy consume him, let it out and burn him up like a new-born star?

 

Looking at the crater he had just created, he realized that he couldn't survive much longer. He was already shaking with new energy and it would burn him to cinder if he didn't offer it a way out.

 

"Gambit?"

 

Remy's head jerked back, trying to focus on his visitor. Who the hell knew he was here in the first place? Not even Jean-Luc knew his whereabouts! Shaking, he managed to identify the man standing in front of him. "Grey Crow?"

 

Scalphunter nodded his head. Gambit only knew him by that alias. "Yeah, it's me. You look like shit, Gambit."

 

Remy shivered; it wouldn't be long until another crater would join the first. "Oui, feelin' sick, mon ami." He had worked with Grey Crow on a few occasions and the man had even watched his back when he had stolen some items for his boss, Sinister. He didn't know much about Sinister, only that the man paid well and the objects that Sinister wanted stolen presented a good challenge.

 

Scalphunter advanced on the thief, who was clutching the windowsill, trying to stay on his knees on the bed so he could throw a charged object outside. The first explosion hadn't surprised him. The last time he had seen Gambit the thief had seemed volatile at best. "What's going on?" He had to proceed carefully; Sinister would be howling mad if he failed to take the Cajun to the scientist's lab.

 

"You'd betta leave..." Remy's voice trembled and he reached for another card. The energy flowed into the card and he threw it. It exploded in mid-air, much too close to his shelter. "Out of control." He shouldn't give his weaknesses away, he vividly remembered that lesson from when he had been a hustler on the streets, but he was too far gone to pretend. The empathy and the charging power were draining him, leaving him unable to think rationally.

 

"I know someone who can help you." Scalphunter took in the thief's appearance. Gambit looked bad; his powers were consuming him.

 

Remy laughed bitterly. "No one can help me..." Mon Dieu, the energy was building again!

 

"I'm sure Sinister can help you, if you let him." Scalphunter made his move, offering Remy the bait. "You look like you're burning up inside, Gambit. Let Sinister check on you. He's a scientist and probably the only one who can help you."

 

"Never trusted your boss," Remy whispered. His fingertips burned and he grabbed the blanket that partly covered him. Releasing his kinetic energy, it flowed into the blanket. When he threw it outside, the explosion almost knocked his guest off his feet. "I don' want his help."

 

"Doesn't look like you've got a choice, Gambit." Scalphunter moved closer, offering Remy his hand. "Let's get you out of here."

 

Remy was confused; his empathy reflected his feelings over and over again, until he lost himself in them. He had just released a large quantity of energy and wouldn't need to charge anything for some time. "I ain' sure..." But Scalphunter had grabbed his wrist and was now pulling him to his feet. He swayed, but the other man caught him. You should let me die here... But a part of him was still fighting for survival. It was the same part that had kept him going when he had found Philippe's corpse after Hugo had raped him. His survival instincts were too strong and he accepted the other man's help.

 

The alien eyes closed and Scalphunter dragged Gambit over to his jeep, sat him down in the passenger's seat and buckled the Cajun up. That last release had exhausted Gambit, who was now asleep. However, the Cajun's fingertips were still glowing and he kept his distance, quickly keying the ignition. Sinister would be pleased that he had successfully accomplished his mission!

 

///

 

"Finally." Sinister grinned. "After all these years he's finally in my laboratory." Circling his prey, he wished the red on black eyes would open, but they stayed closed. "Remy LeBeau," he whispered the name, tasting it. "Gambit." That was the name Remy had gone by this last year and the thief was going to give him what he wanted willingly.

 

The first thing he had done after Remy had arrived at his lab was to put a Genoshan collar on him. He wanted Remy stable and controllable before operating on him. The empathy had gotten too strong to control and he had to neutralize Remy's powers for now. "You're much stronger than I ever thought you would be. Too strong..."

 

Remy's eyelids fluttered and he opened his eyes. The heavy weight of the collar and the strange surroundings caused him to panic and he tried to sit upright. His head was reeling and he felt weak and dizzy. Finally, he realized that he wasn't alone and at the same time he began clawing the collar, trying to remove it.

 

"Don't," Sinister advised. "Your powers are out of control. The collar is the only thing that is keeping you from burning up."

 

Startled, Remy stared at Sinister. He had seen Grey Crow's boss from a distance once, but had never met him one on one. "I don' care. Remove it!"

 

"No," Sinister said firmly. "I want you alive." Alive and well.

 

"Why?" Shivers ran down his spine, looking Sinister in the eyes. The man towered over him and radiated a sense of total control that frightened him.

 

"I can help you, but it involves brain surgery. I'll have to remove some cells from your brain stem. After I do that your powers should be controllable." Naked fear and dread stared back at him from Remy's eyes. The mutant was terrified. Good, he would use that fear to his advantage. "You're a fighter, a survivor, you don't want to die. Think about the grief you will cause your family when you die. They'll be so shocked to hear about your death. You don't want to put them through that, do you?"

 

Remy shook his head. He was tired, dizzy and Sinister's words made sense. "Why? Why help me?"

 

"I can always use a Guild master thief, Gambit. You'll be my thief." That was only part of the whole truth. "Work for me, steal for me and I'll give you back control over your powers." Patiently, Sinister waited for Remy's decision.

 

His heart was beating wildly and he was damned scared that he was making the worst mistake of his life, but Sinister was right. He was a survivor, a fighter and he didn't want Jean-Luc to collect his son's dead body after he had had to take Belle home. "I'll work for you."

 

"Excellent!" Sinister grinned. "Now I must leave you and prepare for surgery." Taking hold of a syringe, he placed the tip against Remy's skin and pressed the needle beneath the flesh. Seeing Remy's panicked expression, he explained. "It's a sedative and it will help you calm down. Hopefully I can operate on you within the hour." He watched Remy's pupils dilate; the drug was already working its way through Remy's system. "Don't fight it."

 

But Remy was fighting it, suddenly afraid that he had sold his soul. He didn't know where the fear was coming from, but his whole being urged him to get away from Sinister. Maybe it was the eyes... Red eyes, so much like his own. "Who... are... you?" he stuttered the words while dozing off.

 

Sinister laughed softly, turned away from his patient and left to prepare for the surgery.

 

///

 

An hour later, Sinister returned as promised. The sedative was still keeping Remy immobile, but he managed to open his eyes. Remy flinched, as Sinister's gaze met his and he closed his eyes again. Sinister's red eyes distressed him.

 

"We can proceed," Sinister announced and walked up to the head of the exam table Remy was lying on. He pushed the exam table toward the doorway, actually looking forward to performing brain surgery after such a long time!

 

Remy was terrified and wished he could still cry out, but he had lost the ability to produce sounds, let alone words. Paralyzed, he could merely wait as Sinister placed him on the operating table. Warm lights made his skin tingle and he kept his eyes pinched shut.

 

"Breathe in deeply," Sinister ordered, placing an oxygen mask over Remy's mouth and nose.

 

Remy obeyed, not having a choice in the matter. He flinched violently as another needle buried itself beneath his skin. The room began to spin and he felt nauseous. Darkness descended on to him and he lost consciousness.

 

///

 

His mouth tasted like cotton and swallowing hurt too badly. His head felt heavy and he barely had the strength to move at all, so he tried to remain motionless. What had happened? What was the last thing he remembered?

 

Sinister... Sinister had performed brain surgery on him! The weight around his neck was gone; did that mean Sinister had finally removed the Genoshan collar? He raised his right hand to determine whether the collar was really gone or still there. Touching his throat, he realized it was gone indeed.

 

"Gambit, open your eyes. Look at me!"

 

The loud voice made him cringe and a terrible migraine was building behind his temples.

 

"Gambit, I know that you're awake and that you can hear me. I need you to open your eyes now!" Sinister was getting worried. Although the surgery had gone according to plan, brain surgery was always risky.

 

After struggling with his eyelids for a few seconds, Remy managed to half open his eyes. Sinister was hovering above him, checking on IV's and the monitors he was hooked up to.

 

"Do you remember my name?" Sinister wanted to make sure Remy hadn't suffered any brain damage.

"Si...nis...ter." Whispering the answer took most of Remy's strength and his eyes began to close again.

 

"Good. What's your name? Answer me!" Remy was falling asleep again and the latest CAT scans indicated that his patient's brain activity was normal.

 

"Re... my..." Totally exhausted, Remy fell asleep again.

 

Sinister nodded his head. The surgery had been successful. Remy's strength had been reduced and hopefully the thief's powers would stay that way. But he couldn't dismiss the possibility that they would grow strong again one day. Should that happen, he might have to resort to more drastic measures, but he was content for now. By taking away cells from the brain stem he had obtained a large source of DNA to experiment with. After nineteen years he could finally conduct his tests and if he ever ran out of DNA material again, he would know where to find Remy LeBeau. He would keep an eye on Remy for the rest of his life.

 

///

 

The next time Remy woke up, he felt less dizzy. To his embarrassment he discovered that he was hooked up to a catheter, as well as the IV's. He was obviously confined to bed and had to wait for Sinister to make another appearance.

 

Running a hand through his hair, he froze. His fingertips probed his scalp and found minor scars from the surgery. Sinister had shaved off some of his hair, leaving a bald spot at the back of his neck. He could easily disguise it by letting the top layer of his locks cover up the bald spot, but it felt weird, reminding him the surgery had really happened.

 

His eyes searched the white ceiling and then he took in the medical equipment he was hooked up. What was that IV feeding him? Was Sinister still administering a sedative to him? Was that why he felt queasy and confused?

 

Unexpectedly, the door opened and Sinister stepped inside. "Good, you're awake. We need to talk." He came to a halt at the foot end of Remy's bed and studied his patient. "You'll be bedridden for a few more days."

 

"What... are you... pumpin' into me?" Remy panted softly after finishing his question. He couldn't believe how weak he felt!

 

"A strong sedative. I don't want you trying to get to your feet and walking about. You need rest and this way I can make sure you'll stay in bed. I can take you off the medication in a few days." Remy was recovering slowly, as was to be expected after having had major surgery.

 

"De collar... is gone... It worked?" It frustrated Remy that speaking cost him this much energy. He wanted to hide his weakness, but lacked the strength to do that.

 

"Yes, it worked." Sinister indulged himself and fingered a lock of soft hair. "You'd better rest now. Once you're back on your feet I want you to steal certain items for me."

 

Remy weakly nodded his head. Oui, Sinister had made it a condition that he work for the scientist in order to pay him back for his help. Closing his eyes, he listened to Sinister's retreating footsteps. He was tempted to rip the IV's from his arm, but doubted Sinister would let him get away with it. Sinister would probably restrain him if he pulled such a stunt. Non, it was better to cooperate.

 

Now that he had decided not to fight Sinister for the time being, he released a strangled sigh and allowed himself to fall asleep again.

 

///

 

"Here, I brought you something to eat." Sinister handed Remy a bowl filled with soup. "How do you feel today?" Forty-eight hours after surgery Remy was still shaky and even running a slight fever.

 

Remy's hands shook as he tried to wrap his fingers around the bowl. Merde, he was going to spill it all over the bed! His hands dropped back onto the bed, unable to take hold of the bowl.

 

Seeing that his patient was still unable to feed himself, Sinister placed the bowl at Remy's lips and encouraged him to swallow some tomato soup. "You need the nutrients and fluids," he reminded the thief. He might have to insert a feeding tube if Remy was unable to keep the soup down.

 

Remy blushed, feeling utterly embarrassed that Sinister had to feed him. When he had been a kid it had been hard to accept Jean-Luc's help, but he had managed to grow comfortable with the idea that Jean-Luc was taking care of him because the man loved him, but Sinister... the scientist gave him the creeps.

 

Remy managed to empty the bowl and had to admit he enjoyed the soup, was even hoping there was more. "When can I leave my bed?"

 

"Patience," Sinister chided him. "You can't even feed yourself; that should tell you something, and you're running a fever, which you didn't have before." There was even a possibility of infection.

 

"Why are you doin' dis?" Why was Sinister feeding him personally? From what Grey Crow had told him Sinister was powerful and surely had people working for him that could tend to his needs.

 

"I have a special interest in you... I want you alive and well." Sinister considered how much to tell Remy.

 

Remy tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. "Why?"

 

Sinister decided to distract his nosey patient. "Here's a list of objects that I want you to obtain for me after you healed." He placed the sheet of paper on Remy's chest so the thief could study it.

 

"Dat's mostly medical equipment... a high-tech laser... I can get dose t'ings for you." Thankful for the distraction, he tried to lock out Sinister's presence, but failed. At times, he felt the scientist's mind too close to his own; the man most certainly possessed telepathic abilities and he tried to guard his own thoughts well.

 

Sinister carefully plotted his next move, knowing Gambit was his for the moment, but the time would come when the thief would try to get away from him. He could worry about that later.

 

///

 

Remy cringed from embarrassment when Sinister removed the catheter from his penis. Although Sinister's touches were clinical and bereft of emotion, he couldn't help but flash back to the time when he had been living on the streets. Stop it! Sinister doesn' know you were a whore once! But that thought didn't reassure him.

Finally, the offending catheter was gone and he quickly pulled the sheet back in place. Sinister could have given him a medical gown at least! But no, he was butt naked!

 

"Maybe I'll let you leave your bed tomorrow," Sinister announced, while studying the results from a brain scan he had run on Remy. "How are you feeling?"

 

Remy considered lying, but the monitors would tell the scientist the truth. "Weak, mais betta. Can' I try walkin' today?"

 

"No," Sinister replied firmly. "You'll rest another 24 hours."

 

Sinister puzzled him. From the things Grey Crow had told him, he had gathered that Sinister was ruthless and incapable of emotion and yet the scientist was almost fussing over him! Why, why me? Why fuss over me?

 

"Try to sleep some more," Sinister advised. Remy had just eaten breakfast and now that the nausea was gone, the young man was keeping everything down.

 

Remy shivered as Sinister's cold hands smoothed back his locks to check on the scars, which the surgery had left behind.

 

"The infection seems gone. The antibiotics are working." Pleased, Sinister brushed the locks back over the bald spot and checked Remy's eyes. They were lucid and clear. "I'll be back in a few hours to bring you lunch, but for now I want you to sleep."

 

Remy closed his eyes, eager to appear cooperative, knowing Sinister would inject some sleeping meds into the IV port if he objected. Listening to the retreating footsteps, he sighed, releasing some of the tension that had been building during Sinister's visit. He just didn't trust the scientist. He surrendered to a peaceful sleep, letting his mending body rest.

 

///

 

Remy was excited; Sinister was finally allowing him to leave the bed! He didn't know where to go, as he was unfamiliar with the layout of Sinister's lab, but just being on his feet seemed like heaven! He was standing at the side of his bed, feet planted firmly on the floor as he tried his first steps. Mon Dieu, he felt as weak as a new born. He swayed and would have fallen, if it hadn't been for Sinister, who caught him.

 

Embarrassed, he averted his eyes. Sinister's hold was tight and told him that the scientist didn't plan on releasing him.

 

"Just a few steps. Don't overestimate your strength, Gambit." Sinister helped Remy to cover the distance to the chair in the corner of the room and assisted him as the young man sat down.

 

Remy was panting softly, terrified at how weak he really was. He wouldn't be able to walk unaided for another few days. Again, it surprised him that Sinister was taking care of him personally. The scientist seemed worried, seemed to care, but that was an illusion. Sinister wasn't capable of feelings any longer. Briefly, he was tempted to reach out empathically, but Sinister would immediately detect the attempt to probe his mind, so he abandoned the idea.

 

"Can I sit here a li'l longer?" Remy didn't want to return to his bed.

 

Sinister nodded his head. "I'll leave you for a short time and then I'll help you back to your bed. You're still recovering from surgery."

 

Remy rested his head against the soft fabric of the chair and closed his eyes. "Merci." He sighed relieved after Sinister had left the room. The scientist's presence made him uncomfortable and he was always relieved to be alone again.

 

What did I get myself into dis time? Oui, I can control my powers 'gain, mais now I owe him. I can steal de t'ings on dat list, mais will it stop after dat? What if he'll never let me go? Sinister had a terrible hold over him.

 

///

 

"I brought you some clothes. Your armor is in the suitcase under the bed, as well as your other personal belongings, which Scalphunter found when he searched your shelter." Sinister placed underwear, jeans, shirt, sweater and socks on the side of Remy's bed.

 

"Scalphunter?" Remy searched his memory. "I don' know anyone by dat name."

 

"Grey Crow..." Sinister felt pleased today. The first experiments he had performed on Remy's DNA were coming along nicely and he could finally continue manipulating the gene pool.

 

Remy stared at the clothes, determined to wait for Sinister to leave before changing into them. "What's gonna happen next?" Sinister was in control right now and calling the shots. He didn't mind stealing for Sinister, feeling terribly relieved that the scientist wasn't forcing him to perform any sexual favors. The reason why Sinister was taking care of him still eluded him, but the man obviously didn't want his ass, which had been his greatest fear.

 

"You'll stay here until you're able to return to your normal routine. I suggest you start working out in the gymnasium downstairs. Certain sections are off limits to you. I asked Scalphunter to show you around and he'll join you for the workouts. Within the week you should be able to venture out for the first time. Again, Scalphunter will accompany you outside."

 

I'm his prisoner... he's keepin' me on a leash and Scalphunter will be watchin' every move I make. I should never have agreed to let him operate on me. I'd rat'er be dead dan his possession. But it was too late now. He had made his decision and he had said yes to this deal. I'll steal everyt'in' on dat list and den I'm outta here.

 

///

 

The next few days were hard on him. He started to work out, finding that he was quickly running out of breath, but after a week he was ready to go outside and prepare for his first mission, just as Sinister had promised. Scalphunter was constantly at his side and he was beginning to loathe the man, seeing a sadistic side to him he had never witnessed before.

 

The first theft had gone smoothly and Sinister had praised him. Remy crossed the first thing off of his list and worked methodically until he had reached the last item, the high-tech laser. He had needed Scalphunter to watch his back on that one, but he managed to pull it off and presented the laser to Sinister, who was almost purring with pleasure. "Dat's de last t'ing on your list."

 

"Very true," Sinister acknowledged. Now it was time to bait Remy again, offering the thief the one thing he couldn't decline. "I want you to perform one last service for me."

 

Remy shook his head. "Non, we had a deal and I lived up to my part of de bargain. I'm outta here." Playing with his cards, ready to charge them in case Sinister tried blocking his path, he moved toward the doorway. He hated the fact that Sinister always wanted to meet in a church; each time he was reminded of the fact that he didn't belong here, that people on the streets had called him the devil's son or Le Diable Blanc.

 

"One last assignment," Sinister whispered from the shadows. "I know your price."

 

Remy halted in his tracks. "What are you talkin’ about?"

 

"Do this for me and I'll tell you about your parents... I'll tell you about your mother, about the man that stole you from the hospital when you were only one hour old... I know everything. You want to know the truth, don't you, Gambit?" Sinister grinned, while playing his trump. Remy turned around and looked him in the eyes. "It's the truth, Gambit. I know who you really are. Don't you want to know? Yes, you're dying to know the truth."

 

Remy knew Sinister was playing him, but... "You really know what happened?"

 

"Yes, I do and I will tell you." Sinister's red eyes flashed dangerously in the shadows. "One more assignment and you'll know the truth."

 

"What do you want me to do?" He hated the fact that his voice was trembling, but he couldn't hide his desire to know the truth, he was desperate to know his parents.

 

"Here's a list." Sinister handed Remy a sheet of paper. "I want you to gather these men and lead the Marauders into the Morlock tunnels."

 

Remy sucked in his breath. He had heard about the Morlocks. "What do you want from dem?" Studying the names on the paper, he flinched. Dey’re killers... Sabretoot's probably de worst!

 

"I need their DNA for my experiments," Sinister lied. "You'll capture certain individuals and take them to my laboratory. I'll release them again after I’ve completed my tests."

 

Mais if dat's de trut' why do you need dese killers? A sinking sensation in his stomach told him to decline, but his need to know the truth about his parents was stronger. "Nobody will be hurt?"

 

Sinister shook his head, lying again. He wanted to eradicate the Morlocks, wipe them off the face of the Earth.

 

Remy wasn't sure what to do and flipped a card... The ace of spades... a bad omen. "I'll do it. Now tell me 'bout my parents!"

 

"Oh no," Sinister whispered. "I'll tell you after you completed the mission."

 

Goosebumps formed on Remy's skin, but he was in no position to argue. Turning his back on Sinister, he left the church to gather the Marauders.

 

///

 

Creed gave him the creeps. The man was stalking behind him, never letting him out of sight as he led the Marauders through the Morlocks' tunnels.

 

"Ya know yer way around, boy," Creed sneered, enjoying smelling the fear on the thief. He had been present when Sinister had briefed Gambit, but the thief didn't know that Sinister had given him a different set of instructions and he was looking forward to finally starting the slaughter.

 

"I came to New York a few weeks ago and befriended de Morlocks. Dey trust me." Remy's voice was a mere whisper and yet still it carried through the tunnels. He loathed himself for doing this to the Morlocks. As far as he could tell the Morlocks were a peaceful people, scared of being killed the moment they ventured onto the surface.

 

Creed laughed, amused. "They trust you? Dumb fools."

 

The words stung. "Keep dose claws to yourself, Creed. Sinister wants dem alive for his experiments. Nobody will be harmed!" He was in charge of this operation and he had better use that to his advantage.

 

Creed's eyes danced with mirth, letting Gambit believe he was in charge.

 

"We're approachin' de main hall. Dis is where dey gather at night." Remy sneaked through the darkness; his eyes providing him with excellent night vision. Looking over his shoulder, he stared at the Marauders... the killers. "Remember, Sinister wants dem alive!" His self-hatred was growing and he almost felt nauseous, now that he was betraying the Morlocks who trusted him.

 

Creed sniffed the air. "They're close all right." It was time to assume command. "Scalphunter, grab the boy and make sure he doesn't get in our way."

 

Remy stared at Creed in disbelief. "What?" Suddenly Scalphunter's arms folded around him, immobilizing him.

 

Scalphunter placed a gun against Gambit's temple, tightening his hold on the thief. "Try anything and you're dead."

 

Remy's eyes had grown big, trying to understand what was happening. "What are you doin', Creed?"

"Sinister gave me different instructions, Cajun. You led the lambs to the slaughter..." Creed purred, taking in his preys' scents and moved forward. "Sinister wants them dead!" The Marauders followed Creed as he flung himself at the crowd. The shocked Morlocks were utterly defenseless and went down one by one.

 

Horrified, Remy stared at Creed and the Marauders, who were slitting throats and slaughtering the Morlocks. "Lemme go!" Helplessly, he tried to shake off Scalphunter, but the other man held on tight. "I've got to help dem!"

 

Scalphunter understood perfectly. "You're staying here. Sinister wants them dead and you're not crossing him." If he let Remy go, the Cajun would fight the Marauders, try to stop them. "Sinister knew you wouldn't go along with the killing, so he didn't tell you, let you believe he just wanted them for their DNA. He hates these degenerated creatures and wants them terminated. They're weak and contaminating his gene pool."

 

The cries of the dying Morlocks echoed in his ears and their pain was getting harder to block. "Spare de chil'ren! Don' kill de bébés! Dey're innocents!" He hardly noticed the tears that were flowing down his cheeks as their pain mingled with his. Unable to stay on his feet any longer, he went down on to his knees, swaying dangerously.

 

Scalphunter didn't expect Gambit to collapse and lost his hold on the Cajun. A glowing card exploded in front of his face, blinding him. A series of punches delivered to his mid-section knocked him off his feet and he was unable to stop Gambit as the thief ran toward the dying Morlocks to protect them.

 

"Creed, leave dem 'lone! You fuckin' bastard!" Remy extended his bo staff and it impacted with Creed's skull, hard and unyielding. Delivering another blow to Creed's head, Remy moved out of reach of the lethal claws. "Stop it! Marauders, listen to me, stop!" But no one listened and the slaughter continued.

 

Tears were now running freely down his face, blurring his vision as the Morlocks' pain and terror battered down his defenses. The dark stench of death invaded his mind and he froze, sharing the pain of their deaths and horror. A terrible pain swept through him as Creed's claws buried themselves in his chest. Blood flowed from the wounds and he collapsed, almost losing consciousness in the process, but the Morlocks' misery was keeping him conscious, forcing him to share their pain.

 

"Yer damn lucky Sinister wants ya alive, boy," Creed sneered, licking Remy's blood from his claws. "Enjoy the rest of the show!"

 

Remy was fighting for his breath, as the pressure on his chest increased. All around him Morlocks were dying and there was nothing he could do to stop the massacre! This was his fault! He had led the Marauders here when his instincts had warned him against it!

 

A soft moan coming from his right alerted him and he managed to roll onto his side to check on the source of the sound. He stared into a girl's eyes, bones sticking out her body. The poor child was paralyzed with fear, staring at the corpse that had fallen on top of her.

 

I have to help her... Summoning his last strength, he managed to crawl toward her. Using his empathy to reassure her, he extended his hand, which she accepted. Seeing that Creed and the Marauders were busy slaughtering the remaining Morlocks, he pulled the girl to him and nearly fainted from the pain that radiated through his chest.

 

"Hold on," he whispered, hoping the girl knew he was trying to help her. Carrying her, he headed for one of the tunnels that would take them to the surface. "Don' let go, petite." He could literally see the light at the end of the tunnel; they were so close to the surface! Staggering, he managed a few more steps, before collapsing again. "You have to run, petite, make it to safety." But the girl was clinging to him. "Go, petite. I can' go any furt'er."

 

"Where do ya think yer going, Cajun?"

 

Creed! "Get movin', petite!" Remy pried her hands loose from his clothes and pushed her toward the exit. She finally seemed to understand and started running. "Bien... at least I saved one..." He screamed his pain when the claws slashed open his back. Creed turned him onto his back, straddling his hips. There was nothing remotely human left in the madman's face and Remy hoped Creed would end it quickly. He deserved to die for what he had done to the Morlocks!

 

"They're all dead now," Creed purred, while running a claw down Remy's face. "You did a great job, boy."

 

Remy was paralyzed and unable to respond. Jus' end it!

 

"Creed, back off!"

 

Remy recognized the voice at once. Sinister! The scientist revealed himself, leaving the shadows behind him. Staring into the burning red eyes, Remy shivered uncontrollably. Sinister had set him up! Had manipulated him! How he hated the man!

 

Creed growled. "I wanna finish him off!"

 

"No, leave us, Creed! Join the Marauders... now!" Sinister's voice took on a dangerous tone. "Don't challenge me!"

Creed slowly backed off, got to his feet and glared at Sinister. "You'd betta finish him off, or I will the next time I meet the rat." Turning his back on them, he marched down the tunnel to join the others.

 

"Why?" Remy's body still refused to move and he was grateful he could form the word. "Why?"

 

Sinister advanced on him and cocked his head. Looking down at the fallen man, he said, "I killed your mother after she gave birth to you. Her blood was still warm when I held you in my arms."

 

Non... non! Shocked, Remy stared at Sinister. You killed my mère? He could barely understand what Sinister had just revealed to him. You killed my mère? Unable to speak the words, he concentrated on his thoughts, knowing that Sinister could read his mind. Why? Why kill her? Tears were swimming in his eyes, but he refused to cry in Sinister's presence.

 

"I didn't need her anymore." Sinister's tone was cold and emotionless. "And then the damned thief stole you from the hospital! I only left you alone for five minutes!"

 

A horrible realization was making Remy nauseous again. Stole me? Non, you can' be sayin' what I t'ink you're sayin'!

 

"Yes, Jean-Luc LeBeau stole you from the hospital and delivered you into the Antiquary's hands. I studied your life extensively, but I never had the chance to get my hands on you."

 

Remy was shaking, being driven to the edge of what he could endure. Non, not Jean-Luc! He saved me!

 

"He never told you, did he?" Sinister grinned.

 

Non! Remy tried to hide behind his hair, but Sinister bend forward and swept the locks out of his face.

 

"But there's more..."

 

Non, don' wanna hear more! Leave me 'lone! Briefly, he wished his powers were strong enough to take Sinister down with him.

 

Sinister was about to speak again, but then strange voices drifted down the tunnel. "Normals... we'll have to continue this another time." He walked away from Remy, grinned and disappeared into the shadows again, not eager to be discovered. After gathering his Marauders, he would open a tesserect and take them to his lab where he would plot his next move. If only he had had time to tell Remy about his father!

 

///

 

"We found a live one! Pete, get the stretcher! The kid looks bad... is the ambulance already on its way?" Detective MacAfee kneeled and started to examine the wounded young man. "Hey, can you hear me? Do you know what happened?" He froze, staring into the red on black eyes, remembering looking into them before. Ten years ago he had worked on Bourbon Street in New Orleans and had run into a scared boy, who had had the very same alien eyes. Could this be the same boy?

 

"Don't be scared. An ambulance is already on its way to take you to the hospital. Everything's going to be fine, kid."

 

Dazedly, Remy returned the gaze, wondering why the man that was hovering above him seemed familiar. Too drained and too emotionally messed up, he gave in to exhaustion.

 

"It's okay, kid, just relax." MacAfee watched helplessly as the young man lost consciousness. This time he would stay close and make sure the boy didn't give him the slip again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter Ten

Lovers

 

He was slowly drifting back to the surface, clawing his way to consciousness. If it had been up to him he would have stayed in the darkness, but a voice was talking to him, urging him to open his eyes and look at him. Involuntarily, he obeyed and forced his eyes open.

 

"Hey, I knew you were awake. How are you doing, kid?" MacAfee smiled reassuringly and studied the alien eyes, which he remembered so clearly. He had seen them in his dreams after the boy had given him the slip. Later, he had been angry with himself for letting the boy get away.

 

Remy's lips moved but no sound left them. Blinking his eyes, he felt thankful for the dimmed light. Merde, he was hooked up to IV's and monitors again and the catheter was back. What had happened? Creed happened, his brain supplied. The mad man had slashed his chest open and had then buried his claws in his back. Only now, he realized his chest and back were bandaged and he was resting on his left side.

 

"The doctor is confident that you'll make a full recovery," MacAfee informed him.

 

Remy nodded his head weakly. He always survived, didn't he? Why couldn't he simply give up and die? He managed to focus on the brown eyes, once again wondering why the man looked familiar. Why did he feel like the man should be wearing a police uniform? Had he finally lost his sanity?

 

"My name's MacAfee, Dave MacAfee. I found you in that tunnel and you were more dead than alive. Can you tell me your name, kid?" During the last hour he had sat at the young man's bed, studying his features and he was sure that this young man and the boy he remembered were one and the same person. This was the boy who had run away before he could get him to the hospital.

 

His name? "Re...my," he whispered softly. His reply was barely audible and his eyes were closing again.

 

"It's okay, kid, go back to sleep. They're feeding you morphine against the pain. Whoever did this number on you must have been a raving lunatic." Dave MacAfee watched his charge fall asleep again and he was determined to track down the mad man who had cut the kid open like this. Thankfully, his captain had assigned him to Remy's case, but he needed more information if he wanted to solve it. For now, he decided to sit here and wait for Remy to wake up again.

 

///

 

An hour later, Remy startled awake. Pain slashed through his body and his eyes flashed open.

 

"Sorry, Remy, but I needed to check for infection. My name's Benjamin Jones and I'm your doctor. You needed stitches and now we have to look out for infection." Benjamin smiled, grateful that Dave had given him his patient's first name.

 

Dave MacAfee was in the room as well and exchanged a glance with Benjamin. "How long before he will be coherent again?"

 

"A few more days," Benjamin informed him. "I can't take him off the morphine yet."

 

Benjamin got to his feet and walked over to the bed. "Remy, I've got to return to the police station, but I'll be back when you feel better. Maybe then you can tell me what you remember of your attacker?"

 

Remy' eyes remained emotionless. His walls had never been higher or stronger, and he was determined to keep their concern out and his feelings suppressed. Sinister had finally pushed him over the edge by admitting he had killed his mother and then the other revelation... that one had shocked him even more. Jean-Luc had delivered him into the Antiquary's hands!

 

Depressed and listlessly, he averted his eyes and stared at the window. It was raining and the sun hid behind a blanket of dark clouds.

 

"Are you in pain? Remy, are you in pain?" Worried, Benjamin wondered about his patient's reaction. "Can you hear me?"

 

Remy refused to answer and closed his eyes. Listening closely he realized that his doctor was injecting something into the IV port, probably more morphine.

 

"I hope that takes care of the pain," Benjamin said, worried. "Go back to sleep, Remy."

 

This time he obeyed and let himself drift off into sleep.

 

///

 

He slept most of the time during the next three days. Sometimes he would wake briefly because Benjamin was changing the bandages, but then he would pretend to be asleep. He just didn't know how to deal with Sinister's revelations and fled into oblivion.

 

"Remy?" Benjamin was now growing truly worried about his patient. He had stopped administering the morphine and Remy should be responding by now. "Remy? You've got a visitor."

 

Startled, Remy's eyes fluttered open and focused on the doorway. Don' let it be Jean-Luc or Sinister... please, mon Dieu! But to his surprise it was Dave MacAfee who entered the room. The detective pulled up a chair and straddled it. Remy allowed himself a moment to take in the cop's appearance. Dave MacAfee was tall, almost 6 foot nine, muscular and had short blond hair, a brush cut. The brown eyes revealed concern, mixed in with curiosity.

 

"Hello, kid, hope you don't mind me dropping by, but Benjamin told me you were up for visitors. I need information if I want to catch the one who slashed you open." Dave noticed the tremors that washed over the young man's body. Benjamin had told him that Remy had been unresponsive and maybe he could jostle the young man enough to lure him into talking. "I wish you hadn't run away on Bourbon Street ten years ago. I really wanted to help you. I remembered your eyes when I found you in that tunnel."

 

Remy sucked in his breath. That was why the man seemed so familiar and now he recalled that the cop had introduced himself as MacAfee ten years ago.

 

"So you see, we go back a long time, you and me," Dave continued, trying to reassure the younger man. "What happened in that tunnel, Remy?"

 

Remy considered telling the detective what had happened, but realized he couldn't. The cop would never believe him and was in no position to go after Creed, who would kill MacAfee without giving him a second thought. "Don'... remember..."

 

Dave shook his head, indicating he didn't believe Remy. "I think you do, but for some reason you're too scared to tell me."

 

Remy averted his eyes, only to find Benjamin at his other side. Now that he was off the morphine, he studied the doctor. Benjamin Jones had blond hair that reached past his shoulders, wore glasses and had sparkling green eyes.

 

Benjamin used the silence to update his patient on his condition. "There are no signs of infection, Remy, and the wounds are healing nicely. You can go home in a few days."

 

Go home... I don' have a home... He would have to check into a hotel and lick his wounds there. He decided not to tell Dave anything about Creed, Sinister or the Marauders. Maybe some of the Morlocks had survived and he didn't want them discovered. De Morlocks... it's my fault dey're dead...

 

"Remy, you do have a place to stay, don't you?" Dave frowned; he had to admit that Remy's behavior worried him as well.

 

"I'll find one," Remy whispered, listlessly. Merde, he had to pee and the catheter was still in place. No way could he talk his doctor into letting him use the bathroom. Feeling embarrassed and ashamed, he relieved himself.

 

Benjamin and Dave exchanged a worried glance. "You can stay at our place," Dave said eventually.

 

That got Remy's attention. "Our?"

 

"Benjamin and I are lovers, life partners... or are you homophobic, kid?" Dave didn't know what to make of the look of stark fear that appeared in Remy's eyes. "What? Are you scared we're gonna abuse the situation? Don't worry, we won't touch you." It was obvious that Remy didn't know what to make of the fact that they were a gay couple.

 

"Merci, mais non... will check into un hôtel." He shuddered at the thought of staying with them.

 

Benjamin moved a little closer. "Why are you scared, Remy?" He had treated abuse victims before and Remy's reactions were alarmingly similar. Testing his theory, he rested a hand on Remy's naked arm. Remy flinched violently and Benjamin took that as a confirmation of his suspicions. "Remy, were you sexually abused?"

 

Dave gave Benjamin a startled look "Damn, Bourbon Street... you ended up prostituting yourself, didn't you?" His look shifted from Benjamin to Remy, reading the truth in the young man's eyes. "I'm sorry that I didn't try harder to find you, kid."

 

"The offer still stands," Benjamin said, firmly. "You'll need someone to look after you. You'll be confined to bed for at least another week. I'd really feel uncomfortable letting you go, knowing you'd have to check into a hotel with no one to take care of you."

 

Remy felt cornered and reacted on instinct, releasing part of his empathy to test their intentions.

 

"Wow," Benjamin whispered, impressed, feeling Remy touch his mind. "I never felt anything like it before. I heard about telepaths, but..."

 

"Ain' a telepat'..." Remy admitted. "I'm an empat'."

 

Dave smiled, feeling the gentle touch as well. "You're making sure we're being honest, huh?"

 

"Ain' readin' your minds," Remy assured them.

 

"It's okay," Dave reassured him. "So what are you picking up? Are we telling the truth?"

 

Oui, you're tellin' de trut'. He only felt concern and curiosity in their minds, no evil intentions. But he didn't know them, didn't trust them. Don' t'ink I'll ever be able to trust 'gain, not after learni' dat my poppa stole me... mais what if he hadn'? Den Sinister would have made my life miserable. Does it matter who hurt me; de Antiquary or Sinister? What's de difference?

 

"Why don't you think it over?" Dave got to his feet again; he had to return to the police station. "You can tell Benjamin what you decide. It's okay if you don't want to stay with us, but I think it would be the best thing for you right now. You don't strike me as someone who wants to be alone."

 

You don' know me at all. Feeling embittered and abandoned, Remy tried to shift in the bed to gain a more comfortable position, but waves of pain rolled through his chest and he froze.

 

"Without the morphine you'll feel the pain more clearly." Benjamin gestured Dave to leave the room and then tried to capture Remy's elusive gaze. "I don't know exactly what happened to you on Bourbon Street, but I know there are men out there who would abuse your situation. We're not like that, Remy. We aren't johns. Just consider our suggestion? We’ve got a guest room and you wouldn't have to climb any stairs, which would take its toll in your weakened condition. Just sleep on it, okay?"

 

Remy nodded once, uncertain why they were inviting him into their home. The only thing he could think of was that they wanted his ass, but when he had touched their minds, he hadn't felt any lust aimed at him. They just wanted to help, but why?

 

"Remy? Is there something you want to ask me?" Benjamin watched Remy struggle.

 

"Why? Why help me?" Sinister had hurt him so deeply that he couldn't trust any more. Dave and Benjamin had to have a secret agenda! Locking eyes with Benjamin, he once again felt real concern. The young doctor didn't have any hidden motives, didn't intend to hurt him.

 

Benjamin shrugged his shoulders. "You don't have a place to stay and Dave really wants to help you. I've known him for five years now and every now and then he dreams about the boy he couldn't help, the boy that he let slip away. I don't want him to feel guilty."

 

His empathy told him that every word was true and he didn't know what to do. Checking into an empty hotel room wasn't appealing either, but his fear was holding him back from accepting Benjamin and Dave's invitation and he appreciated that Benjamin didn't pressure him. The doctor left his room after urging him again to rest.

 

///

 

"So, did you make up your mind?" Dave was back to pick up Benjamin whose shift had ended. Expectantly, he looked Remy in the eyes. The fear that still lurked there made him cautious. "If you don't want to stay with us, we'll drive you to a nice hotel. It's up to you."

 

Remy had had two days to think everything over and Benjamin had discharged him a few minutes ago. He was wearing clothes, which he had borrowed from Benjamin. His own clothes had been covered in blood. "I ain' sure," he admitted softly. "I wanna accept your invitation, mais..."

 

"We won't hurt you," Benjamin assured him again. He hoped that Remy would say yes. This was an incredible opportunity for Remy to grow, to learn that he didn't have to fear gay people. He damned the men to hell who had abused Remy in the past. If only he could show Remy that he didn't have to be afraid!

 

Remy knew he had lost the inner struggle when he involuntarily nodded his head. "Oui, I'm acceptin' your invitation." He couldn't believe he had said yes. It was another impulsive decision that would get him into trouble. One bad decision followed another in his life. The only good decision he had ever made was trusting Jean-Luc and even his father had hurt him by banishing him from New Orleans. He was only setting himself up for more heartache.

 

"You won't regret saying yes, Remy." It must have been hard for Remy to accept the invitation. Benjamin looked at Dave and hoped they could heal a little bit of Remy's hurt.

 

///

 

"This is it," Dave announced. He had folded an arm around Remy's waist and guided him to the guest room, which was small, but cozy. "You can stay as long as you want to." He led Remy inside and after piling some pillows, he helped his guest lie down. Remy's eyes were closing; the short trip from the hospital to the apartment had drained him. "Why don't you take a short nap and I'll wake you once dinner is ready?"

 

"Sounds bien," Remy whispered sleepily. In the back of his mind a child's voice was screaming at him, telling him to get away from Dave and Benjamin as quickly possible. They couldn't be any better than the johns who had paid him for sexual favors. Those johns had liked boys, had fucked Philippe who had only been a few years older. He felt like he was still in danger, like the danger had never left.

 

His thoughts raced in circles until finally he fell asleep.

 

///

 

"How's Remy doing?" Benjamin was preparing dinner when Dave joined him in the kitchen. Turning around, he wrapped his arms around his life partner and pulled him close for a passionate kiss. "We actually scare him..."

 

"What did he tell you?" Dave released Benjamin and peeled the potatoes.

 

"Not much, but from what I gathered he was abused at a very young age." Benjamin got the steaks from the fridge and a frown appeared on his brow. "I once walked in on him when he was having a nightmare. He was fighting off someone called Hugo. Remy was struggling with the blankets, entangling himself and begging this Huge not to touch him. That's all I know."

 

"You think he was raped?" Dave got out the utensils and plates and set the table for three.

 

Benjamin nodded once. "And if that's the case it's understandable that he's afraid. We prefer men and he was assaulted by a man... we've got to be careful, love."

 

"He's asleep right now..." Dave sat down at the table and chewed on a breadstick. "What do we do now he's here?"

 

"Act normally and do the things we always do. Maybe if he realizes we're not a threat he'll feel more comfortable."

 

"Did you see his medical records?" Dave knew Benjamin wouldn't tell him any details, but he had to ask.

 

"No," Benjamin said thoughtfully. "Remy never told us his last name... did you have more luck?"

 

"Nothing, it's like he doesn't exist. I even ran a check on his fingerprints, but nothing came up."

 

"So we have to find out his last name. Damn, I really want those medical records. What if there's more?" Benjamin placed the boiled potatoes, steak and greens on the table. "You'd better wake Remy. Dinner is ready."

 

Dave rose from his chair and walked over to the guest room, finding Remy already awake. "Hi there, I hope you're hungry. Ben made enough food to feed a starving family."

 

Remy managed to push himself into a sitting position .When he had woken up he had been terribly confused, briefly fearing he was back in Sinister's lab. Then he had seen the books, CD's and plants in the room, remembering he was staying with Dave and Benjamin.

 

"Dinner is served. Come on, we don't want the food to grow cold." Dave was tempted to pull Remy to his feet, but refrained from doing so. He wasn't sure Remy would welcome his help.

 

"Mais oui, I'm comin'..." Remy pushed himself to his feet and swayed. Leaning against the wall for support he waited until the dizzy spell was over. Following Dave, he slowly made his way into the kitchen where he sat down at the dinner table. "Smells bon," he complimented them.

 

"Hope you're hungry, Remy." Benjamin placed a full plate in front of his guest. "Bon appetite."

 

Remy kept one arm wrapped around his chest, trying to ignore the pain. He even managed a few bites, before the pain became worse and made him drop his fork because he was shaking so badly.

 

"Remy, what's wrong?" Benjamin rose from his chair and walked over to Remy. Seeing the cold sweat on the young man's brow, he grew worried. The last time he had checked on the wounds they had been free of infection. "You have been too much on your feet today and the pain is back, isn't it?"

 

Remy managed a weak nod. All he wanted was to lie down and sleep.

 

"I'll give you something against the pain." Benjamin walked out of the kitchen and returned carrying a vial filled with white pills. "Take two of them." He placed the glass of water in Remy's hand and watched him swallow the painkillers. "Try to eat a little more? Otherwise you'll never regain your strength."

 

Remy ate another few bites, but then stopped. His stomach was protesting. "Sorry, mais can I lie down...?"

 

Dave helped Remy to his feet and steered him toward the living room. Remy raised a puzzled eyebrow, but Dave laughed softly. "We're going to watch a game and talk a little. You can return to your room later." They had decided to let Remy be part of their life, as it was most likely that Remy would try to isolate himself by staying in his room. "Comfortable?"

 

Remy was lying on the couch on his left side to take the pressure off his back and chest. "Oui, comfortable."

 

"I'm going to help Benjamin do the dishes and then we'll join you, okay?" Dave smiled, seeing Remy's eyes close. "That's it. Rest is the best remedy... at least that's what Ben says."

 

After joining his life partner in the kitchen, they did the dishes and made some tea. Thirty minutes later, they installed themselves on the loveseat and switched on the TV. They couldn't find a game and settled for a movie.

 

Dave opened his arms and Benjamin sat between his lover's legs, enjoying the feel of Dave's arms tightly wrapped around him. Leaning back against Dave's chest, he felt Remy's eyes on him. "Awake again?" The stunned expression in the alien eyes briefly baffled him, wondering why it was there.

 

Remy felt the love they shared, but had never seen two men in love before. Seeing the tenderness, with which Dave held Benjamin close, was a revelation. These two men really cared deeply about each other. Their love was strong and he felt humble that they wanted to include him in their lives.

 

Dave had studied Remy's expression as well and said, "Yeah, I love Ben. We met five years ago and have been together ever since. I can't imagine a life without him."

 

Remy swallowed hard. Suddenly he felt the overwhelming need to tell them about his fears. He was probably making a mistake, but the pain needed a way out. "When I was nine I was prostitutin' m'self to stay 'live. I sucked dem off mais refused to let dem fuck me, mais den my pimp sold my ass for five hundred dollars and de john raped me. I don' trust men... don' trust men who like ot'er men..." He had blurted out his fears and now he flushed crimson, avoiding their eyes and trying hard to block their feelings.

 

Dave felt Benjamin tremble, realizing his lover had drawn the right conclusions after walking in on Remy while Remy was having that nightmare. "This happened after we met?"

 

"Oui, I sucked my first john off de night after I ran 'way from you. You wanted to take me to a hospital and I was scared dey'd lock me up. I'd been pretty much a prisoner for de first nine years of my life and I couldn' bear de t'ought of losin' my freedom 'gain." Remy noticed Benjamin's swimming eyes, but didn't say anything about it. "Dat's why I'm scared... bein' here wit' you. Rien comes for free and everyt'in' has a price."

 

Benjamin shook his head in disbelief. "You were only nine years old?"

 

"I had to survive..." Remy shivered.

 

Benjamin left the couch to collect a blanket from the guest room and covered Remy with it. Sitting down on the floor, he watched Remy closely. "Give us a chance to prove to you that not all men are evil? Yes, Dave and I like men, but we would never force you to do anything against your will."

 

"It's hard," Remy admitted, struggling to keep his walls up. Benjamin was close and the man radiated compassion. "Gimme time?"

 

"Sure," Dave said, sitting on his heels behind Benjamin and folding an arm around his partner. "You can have all the time you want."

 

///

 

The next morning Remy felt a bit more comfortable being around Benjamin and Dave. After breakfast, Dave left to go to the police station and Remy expected Benjamin to leave as well, but the doctor announced that he had taken a day off from work to look after him. Remy felt guilty, hearing that. He didn't want to be a burden.

 

"Nonsense, you're not a burden!" Benjamin shook his head at Remy’s objections.

 

Remy grew silent after that and watched Benjamin do the dishes. "Can I help?"

 

Benjamin arched his eyebrow. "Can you stand on your own?"

 

"Non," Remy whispered.

 

"The painkillers are making you sleepy and you'd probably drop the dishes You can help when you feel better, okay?" Benjamin said, seeing the draped expression in the alien eyes.

 

"'kay..." Remy sat in silence, watching Benjamin move about. He didn't know what to say.

 

"So Remy, how old are you? You look like you're sixteen."

 

"I'm nineteen," Remy corrected Benjamin.

 

"And when's your birthday?" Benjamin helped Remy to the couch where they sat down, drinking some herbal tea.

 

Remy realized Benjamin was trying to lure him into talking but he didn't mind. He was glad that the terrible silence was gone. "I ain' sure, mais I t'ink May first."

 

"You aren't sure?" Benjamin's brow grew knitted.

 

"I don' know my parents," he explained hesitantly. He didn't want to talk about the Antiquary or the Guild. "De man who adopted me, Jean-Luc, always gave me a present on dat day so I assume it's my birt'day."

 

"That reminds me... Dave retrieved this from your pockets."

 

Remy smiled. "It's my bo staff."

 

"Your what?"

Remy extended the staff and smiled, hearing Benjamin's surprised gasp. "It comes in handy."

 

"I've never seen anything like it." Remy closed the staff again and Benjamin blinked his eyes. May first... Remy had said May first... that was in two weeks. Maybe they could organize something in order to celebrate Remy's birthday. When he looked at Remy again, he found that the young man was clinging to the small metal tube and that his eyes had closed again. Benjamin tucked a blanket around Remy's form and decided to do some paperwork, which he had brought home a few days ago. In the meantime he would keep an eye on Remy.

 

///

 

"Non, leave me 'lone... Don' fuckin' touch me!" The last word turned into a helpless yelp and Benjamin hurried to Remy's side. The young man was trembling and his hands opened and closed frantically. "Remy, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

 

Remy reached instinctively, feeling the bo staff in his right hand and hearing a strange voice this close. He opened the staff, ready to defend himself.

 

Benjamin backed away, fell onto his butt and stared at his guest. "Remy, it's me, remember me?"

 

Remy blinked once. "Benjamin..." Oui, he was staying with Benjamin and Dave. "Am sorry," he apologized. His chest was throbbing with pain and tears appeared in his eyes. He shouldn't have moved so abruptly.

 

Benjamin quickly composed himself again and collected the pain medication from the kitchen. "Here, swallow two of them." He helped Remy drink the water. "Feeling better? That must have been one hell of a nightmare."

 

Suddenly Remy realized how close Benjamin was. The other man sat beside him on the couch, close... too close and another flash back overwhelmed him. Hugo was back, hurting him. Whimpering, he waited for the memory to pass.

 

"Remy? It'll help when you open your eyes and look at me. I'm not Hugo. Come on, look at me."

 

The voice penetrated his foggy mind and he locked eyes with Benjamin. "Not Hugo... You ain' Hugo..."

 

"You had nightmares about him before. That's the man who raped you..." Benjamin wanted to take Remy in his arms and hug him tight, but couldn't do that; Remy might freak out again.

 

"Oui," Remy admitted shyly.

 

"Remy?" Benjamin licked his lips. "I'd really like to hold you..."

 

"Non." Remy's tone bordered on sheer panic. The only man allowed to hold him was Jean-Luc LeBeau!

 

"Give me a chance, Remy. I just want to comfort you. My heart belongs to Dave and he's the only man I want. You don't have to feel threatened."

 

"Non..." But this time the protest had lost its conviction.

 

"You want me to hold you, don't you? Deep down there's this boy who wants to be reassured."

 

Mon Dieu, how does he know? Remy wanted to protest again, but Benjamin was right. He wanted to be hugged, held and rocked. He didn't struggle when Benjamin wrapped one arm around him, carefully stroking his back, staying clear of the healing wounds.

 

"You see, there's nothing scary about being held... I'm not hurting you..." He knew he had achieved an important victory when Remy rested his head on his shoulder. "It's nice, isn't it? Being held?"

 

"Oui," Remy almost choked on the word. It wasn't supposed to feel this good. He didn't hear the front door open and close, and didn't see Dave step into the room.

 

Benjamin however noticed his lover and smiled gently. "Why don't you start dinner?"

 

The question confused Remy at first, but then he realized that Benjamin wasn't addressing him at all. When had Dave gotten home? "Salut..." Suddenly he was afraid that Dave might get jealous and mad at him because his lover was holding him and he freed himself of Benjamin's embrace.

 

"Hey, kid, it's okay." Dave walked over to them and rested his hand on Remy's shoulder. "I know Benjamin loves me... I'm not that insecure."

 

Remy sighed, relieved. "Merci." Merde, he hadn't even noticed that he was crying and quickly wiped away his tears. Damn pain pills were making him emotional.

 

"Why don't you stay here on the couch and watch some TV? Dave and I will prepare something to eat and then we'll join you again." Benjamin wanted Remy to grow accustomed to their presence. After Remy nodded his head, he got up from the couch and joined Dave in the kitchen.

 

Remy stared at the TV screen, not really registering what was on. It baffled him that he had been able to endure Benjamin's touch without panicking. Maybe he was starting to feel safe?

 

///

 

In the middle of the night, Remy woke up, feeling incredibly thirsty. Merde, now he had to walk to the kitchen to get himself a drink. He pushed back the comforter and carefully got to his feet. Although the vertigo was gone, he still felt weak.

 

Slowly, he opened the door and stepped into the living room. Dave and Benjamin's room was on the other side of the living room and they appeared to be still awake, judging from the noises coming from their room. Soft mews of approval echoed through the apartment and Remy involuntarily started for their room. The door was ajar and...

 

Mon Dieu... He couldn't move, transfixed by the erotic scene in front of him. Dave and Benjamin were making out! Get out of here! You ain' supposed to watch! Move it! But he was paralyzed and continued to watch.

 

Benjamin was on his back and moaning softly as Dave licked his way down his lover's belly. "I love you..." Dave mumbled affectionately and then...

 

Remy suddenly bolted from the room, ran into the bathroom and began throwing up. Non, non, non! Dave had taken Benjamin's erection into his mouth and seeing that had triggered his own memories, memories which he had repressed for so long. Suddenly, he was back on Bourbon Street, sucking off a john and dry heaves tormented his body.

 

"Remy? Remy, what? Are you all right, kid?" Dave was the first to reach the bathroom and kneeled next to Remy, smoothing back the locks while Remy continued to vomit. "It's okay, just ride it out, don't fight it."

 

Remy shook off Dave's hand and spilled the rest of dinner into the porcelain bowl. Finally, he calmed down and pushed himself away from Dave. Huddling in the corner of the bathroom, he eyed them suspiciously.

 

"Remy, what's going on?" Benjamin kept his distance, reading Remy's body language correctly. He had quickly stepped into some boxers and Dave was wearing a robe. They had been in the middle of making love when Remy had startled them. Was that it? Damn, the door had been ajar when they had stormed into the living room. "You saw us make love, is that it?"

 

Remy shook violently and averted his eyes. Trying to make himself as small as possible, he wrapped his arms around his knees and rocked slightly. "Sorry, didn' wanna watch, mais..."

 

"What did you see, Remy? What triggered this?" Benjamin moved a little closer, but the bathroom was getting crowded. "Dave, why don't you make some tea?"

 

"Sure." Dave realized Benjamin wanted to talk to Remy and left the bathroom, trusting his lover to handle this situation.

 

Remy shook his head. "Don' wanna remember."

 

"What was it?"

 

"Did he hurt you?"

 

Remy's question puzzled Benjamin. "Why are you asking?"

 

"He was on top, non? Know how much it hurts to be de bottom... Did it only once, mais Hugo...Did Dave..."

 

"Dave didn't hurt me, Remy," Benjamin reassured him, suddenly realizing that he was dealing with a frightened nine year old boy that had been hiding all these years. "Dave was making love to me."

 

Remy peeked at Benjamin, feeling like a nine year old again. "Has to hurt... De johns 'ways hurt Philippe when dey fucked him."

 

"Oh, Remy." Benjamin sat down cross-legged and managed to catch Remy's gaze. "That wasn't making love. That was rape. No matter how much they paid, neither Philippe nor you wanted to have sex with them. You needed the money to survive, remember? The men who abused you were perverted bastards."

 

Remy's eyes glowed. "Don' believe you... 'ways hurts."

 

Benjamin licked his lips, ready to make a suggestion that could easily backfire. "Did I look like I was in pain when Dave was touching me?"

 

"Non..."

 

"Listen, the next time Dave and I make love... would you want to watch?"

 

Remy's eyes grew big. "Watch?"

 

"That way we might convince you that making love isn't about pain or control. It's about love and passion."

 

Remy shook his head. "Don' t'ink dat's a bon idea."

 

"Just think about it, okay?"

 

"Tea's ready!" Dave announced, startling them.

 

"Let's move this to the living room, okay? We'll drink some tea, talk some more and then we'll try to go back to sleep."

 

Remy allowed Benjamin to help him to his feet. Benjamin guided him to the couch, where they sat down. Dave handed him a cup of tea and he sipped the hot liquid. Surprised, he found that he wasn't that scared anymore. Maybe it was because Dave was holding Benjamin close again and briefly, he felt envious of the love they had... which he would never find.

 

///

 

The next few days passed quickly and Remy found himself settling down into a routine of sleeping, eating, walking about a bit, waiting for them to come home, eating dinner and watching TV. He felt at peace and that was aiding his recovery. He knew he should be moving out again now that he was feeling better, but he liked being part of... a family, was that it?

 

"You know," Dave started while munching on some potato chips, "you never told us your last name."

 

"LeBeau," Remy replied without hesitation. It showed how much he had come to trust them. "Why do you want to know?"

 

Dave shrugged his shoulders. "Curious." Tomorrow was Remy's birthday and they were trying to contact his family, which hopefully lived in New Orleans, because that was where he was concentrating his search.

 

Remy got to his feet. "I t'ink I'll go for a walk." Yesterday he had gone outside for the first time and it was the perfect way to give them some privacy. He noticed Benjamin's concerned look and tried to reassure his friend. "I'm bien, I really am."

 

"Don't overdo it." Benjamin nodded his head once. "Be careful. You're still healing."

 

"I'll be careful," Remy promised and collected his coat. "Be back in one hour, mes amis!"

 

Dave and Benjamin looked at each other once the door had closed behind Remy. "We've got one hour," they said simultaneously.

 

Dave licked his lips. "One hour to make hot, wild passionate love to you."

 

"What are we waiting for?" Benjamin jumped to his feet and dragged Dave into the bedroom with him.

 

///

 

Remy got back a little early. It had started to rain and he didn't want to catch a cold while he was still recovering from Creed's attack. He used the key Dave had given him to open the door and let himself in. The TV was off and he assumed they had gone to bed early, which he should do as well.

 

"Oh, Dave, yes, harder, please... oh, you make me feel so good... love you..."

 

Oops... Remy blushed, realizing he had managed to walk in on them again! He was about to hurry to his room when Benjamin's moans grew louder.

 

"Oh, yes, yes, yes... so close, so fucking close... come on, Dave..." Soft yelps and demanding whimpers floated from the bedroom into the living room.

 

Benjamin said it was bien if I watched, mais... His feet were already carrying him to their bedroom. Non, can' do dis! I ain' a voyeur... But he found himself standing in the doorway again. Why had they left the door open?

 

His mouth turned dry, watching Dave and Benjamin make love. It should have shocked the hell out of him, seeing Dave thrust and Benjamin wrapping his legs around his lover's waist, but... he sensed their love and it was beautiful. Dave was kissing his lover, claiming Benjamin's lips and suckling them. His thrusts were gentle and he was pumping Benjamin's erection at the same time. This was nothing like his experience with Hugo. This was different, this was making love...

 

"Remy?" Benjamin smiled, seeing the startled expression in Remy's eyes. "It's okay, Remy... it's okay..."

 

Dave ignored Remy, concentrating on his lover instead. They had discussed the fact that Remy might turn up and watch them and although he wasn't thrilled to have an audience he understood why Benjamin had told Remy that it was okay to watch.

 

Remy fought the urge to run away, but his eyes devoured the scene in front of him.

 

Dave's tongue slithered into Benjamin's mouth and his thrusts grew wilder. Releasing Benjamin's lips briefly, he panted a declaration of love. "Love you, Bennie... always love you... we belong together... love you, sweetheart."

 

Remy swallowed hard, feeling Benjamin's impending orgasm and growing hard himself. He should retreat now that he knew the difference between fucking and making love, but he needed to see the rest as well.

 

Dave suckled an erect nipple, making Benjamin squirm beneath him. Pumping his lover's cock, he aimed for Benjamin's sweet spot. "Come for me, love, come for me...I want to taste you, feel you, smell you..."

 

Benjamin trembled as he climaxed, shooting his come across Dave's hand and belly. "Oh, fuck, Dave..."

 

Dave smiled, kissed his lover again and loosed his own orgasm. Holding onto Benjamin, he rode out the waves of ecstasy.

 

Remy's heart missed a beat, seeing Dave pull out and spoon up behind Benjamin. He had feared that Dave would ignore Benjamin's needs, forgetting about making him come, but seeing them snuggled up like this, he realized his mistake. Benjamin's tired eyes met his and he smiled. "I t'ink I understand now... merci for lettin' me be part of dis."

 

Benjamin smiled sleepily.

 

Remy closed the door and returned to his room. He undressed and slipped between the sheets, feeling ashamed that he was still hard. Seeing them make love had opened his eyes. Fucking was just fucking and johns had paid Philippe and him to fuck them... What Dave and Benjamin had was different and he wanted that... wanted that love badly.

 

Although he was trembling, he curled his fingers around his erection, enjoying the friction that made him even harder. Love, dey made love... it's different... it's so much betta. Wish I had someone to love... All it took was a few more strokes and he was coming hard; white cream pooled on his belly and cooled quickly. Mais rien changed... I'm still alone...

 

Fighting back his tears, he stared at the ceiling. He desperately wanted what Dave and Benjamin had... mais I'll never find someone who loves me back... never...

 

///

 

"You're doing really well, Remy, aren't you?" Benjamin smiled. Remy had gained weight and his chest and back hardly bothered him anymore.

 

"T'anks to you and Dave." Benjamin was right; he had seldom known such peace. The only time that came close was when he had allowed himself to trust Jean-Luc and Mattie.

 

"Dave and I will be late tonight. We're going to catch a movie, want to join us?"

 

"Non," Remy declined, making sure they got enough privacy. "I might be going out myself tonight."

 

Benjamin raised an eyebrow. 

 

"Don' worry. I'm only goin' to de museum." Remy collected his coat and walked toward the door. "Mebbe I'll even meet someone."

 

"I hope so, Remy," Benjamin mumbled after Remy had closed the door behind him. "You deserve someone who loves you."

 

///

 

On his way back home, Remy stopped to have some coffee. He had enjoyed touring the museum and was even thinking about plying his thieving skills again, but he was hesitant to get back into the criminal circuit. Creed and Sinister were still out there.

 

And what 'bout de Morlocks? I deserted dem. I didn' even go back to see if anyone survived. What happened to de girl? He had tried so hard to make peace with what had happened, but the guilt never left him, clouding his happiness.

 

Leaving the coffee shop, the guilt became oppressive and he began to pant, desperately trying to draw oxygen into his lungs. Was this a panic attack? Looking up, he saw that the lights were on in Dave and Benjamin's room. Maybe it would help if he talked to them? Finally told them what a fool he had been?

 

After he calmed down a bit, he uncovered his key and let himself in. "Dave? Benjamin?" After shedding his coat, he headed for their bedroom. "Mes amis? Am I interruptin' l'amour?"

 

Why weren't they answering him? He knocked on the door, but the silence remained. No moans, no whimpers... Suddenly a sense of dread overwhelmed him and he opened the door.

 

Non, mon Dieu.. non, not dem! Dey never hurt anyone! Tears flowed down his face as he approached them. Benjamin was lying on his side, curled around Dave. A dagger was buried in his left shoulder. It had been aimed at the heart. Dave was next to his lover. An arrow had pierced his heart.

 

"NON!" Remy collapsed on to his knees. "NON! Why? Why did you kill dem?" The dagger and arrow were trademarks of the Assassins Guild and he recognized this particular dagger. It belonged to Julien.

 

"Non..." Sobbing softly, he rested one hand on either body, finding that they were still warm. Why had he stopped on his way home? Maybe he could have stopped Julien if he had gotten home earlier! "Why did you take me in? You'd still be 'live now if you hadn' taken me in... I want you 'live... please mon Dieu, don' be dis cruel. Lemme wake up from dis horrible dream..."

 

The floodgates opened and he cried softly, releasing his pain. Mon Dieu, dey didn' deserve to die... dey were bon people... I should have known I was makin' de wrong choice. Everyone who cares 'bout me, dies. I killed dem, killed Benjamin and Dave. Oh, mes amis, je vous aime, please don' leave me 'lone... don' wanna be 'lone...

 

"Don't despair, I'm here."

 

Remy jumped to his feet, extended his bo staff and faced Sinister. "What! Didn' you do enough damage? You took 'way de trust I had in Jean-Luc! You killed my mère. I should kill you in return!"

 

"You can't kill me," Sinister said calmly, not even glancing at the two bodies. "You might have stood a chance when your powers were out of control, but not anymore."

 

"What do you want from me?" Remy charged the staff and was ready to throw it at Sinister, hoping to pierce his heart.

 

"I didn't get a chance to finish in the tunnels. I told you about your mother... but not about your father."

 

Remy froze. The malice in Sinster's eyes was getting to him and the scientist stunk of evil.

 

"Don't despair about the death of your friends... I'm here for you... son."

 

"NON!" Remy couldn't take it any longer. "Dat's a lie! I ain' your son, non!" He threw the bo staff, but Sinister managed to step away. An explosion rocked the apartment and the curtains caught fire.

 

"It's the truth, Remy. You are my son. Damn Jean-Luc LeBeau for stealing you. I didn't even get the chance to name you." Sinister grinned. "Just look at our eyes, son... my legacy."

 

"Non..." Remy was sobbing hysterically. He managed to retrieve his bo staff and stared in disbelief at the bed that was burning as well. "Can' let dem burn!" Turning his back on Sinister, he lifted Benjamin in his arms and carried him outside, placing his dead friend on the pavement. Then he went back into the burning house to collect Dave. Sinister stood amidst the flames, laughing loudly. Remy ignored him and carried Dave onto the street as well.

 

"I'm so sorry, mes amis. I'd gladly die if it would bring you back to life..." A crowd was forming and he had to leave this place before the police moved in and wanted to question him. Dave had been a cop and they would want to catch the killer.

 

Looking up at the sea of flames, he saw Sinister's silhouette and shuddered. Sinister couldn't be his father. The man was playing games with him!

 

As he ran into the night, he realized he was truly alone again. I'll never forget you, mes amis... never.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter Eleven

A new beginning.

 

 

What the hell was he doing here? He had never before visited a city's red light district and now he was roaming the streets, looking for company. Had he really become a john like he had always feared? Non, don' wanna use anyone... just need someone to hold me.

 

He had tried meeting someone at the clubs and the bars. Had gone to museums, plays, concerts, hoping to find someone who was interested in him, who would want to share his burden, but most of them backed out the moment they saw his eyes. In the end, his loneliness had driven him back here, back to his past.

 

The crushing loneliness had started right after losing Benjamin and Dave. He had only stayed at their place for ten days, but they had become family to him. Julien killing them had been cruel and sadistic, only meant to hurt him. Why was the monster in New York anyway? But the Assassins operated all over the world. Their actions weren't limited to New Orleans.

 

Shivering, he recalled carrying their bodies outside while Sinister had laughed at him. He ain' my fat'er, non, ain' my fat'er. He's a liar, playin' head games wit' me. He couldn't accept being Sinister's son and was doing his best to forget Sinister's admission, living in denial. All these things were nagging at his soul, draining him of his spirit.

 

So why was he here? To pay someone to care about him.

 

He didn't pay the girls any attention. That wasn't why he was here. He already knew he liked girls, Belle had shown him that, but the question that was haunting him was whether he liked men as well. After all, he had jerked off after watching Benjamin and Dave make out. Was he bi? That possibility scared him.

 

"Hey, gorgeous, I'll be yours tonight for a hundred bucks."

 

Remy studied the male prostitute, using his empathy to probe the man's mind. Non, he ain' what I'm lookin' for... a greedy bastard and a crack addict... he's too much like Philippe... Mon Dieu, I might still be workin' de streets if Jean-Luc hadn' taken me in!

 

"Sorry, you ain' my type," he apologized and moved on. He shook his head in disbelief, realizing just how many men were trying to sell their bodies. Some of the prostitutes even seemed underage. Have to open dat shelter soon...

 

He had decided to fund a shelter in which volunteers would try to reach the prostitutes and hopefully show them the way to a better life. The young ones would get special attention; he had even contacted Child Protection Services to help them find new homes for the young boys and girls. Hopefully the shelter would open in a few days.

 

Suddenly, his empathy picked up on an interesting mind and his eyes scanned the young men, finally settling on a man, who was leaning against the wall, studying his fingernails. The man was older than most of the prostitutes. Probably thirty... or even older. But he was still handsome and he possessed charisma.

 

Remy cringed, the man reminded him of Dave, having a brush cut as well. The only difference was that this man had black hair and the bluest eyes he had ever seen. The man had drawn his attention because he seemed to care about the younger hustlers. His mind showed no signs of addiction, greed or sexual perversions and Remy decided to make his move. "Salut," he said, walking up to the man.

 

The prostitute smiled lazily. "Hello handsome, what are you doing here? You look good enough for the pimps to make a move on you. Be careful around these parts."

 

Remy blinked his eyes. He clearly sensed concern; the other man was concerned for his safety! "I'm Remy," he introduced himself, studying the man further. He was well build, even muscular, like Dave was, and he probably worked out a lot.

 

"Name's Mike." Mike returned the studying gaze. He had seldom seen such a beauty trying to pick up men. Surely Remy could get anyone he wanted?

 

Remy actually blushed, realizing what he was doing. He didn't want to be alone tonight. The days were no problem; he spend them stealing from the rich and giving the money to the poor. He enjoyed seeing the big eyes when his chosen ones found the money in their living room. Kids who had never seen a toy because their parents couldn't afford them suddenly found themselves surrounded by teddy bears and dolls while their parents were trying to figure out how the toys had gotten into their kid's room. Seeing their eyes and feeling their gratitude kept him going.

 

"So what are you looking for, handsome?" The distant expression on Remy's face puzzled Mike briefly and he wished Remy would take off the sunglasses so he could look into the man's eyes.

 

"I t'ink I was lookin' for you..." His hands had turned clammy from nervousness and he was trying hard not to stutter. "Would you spend de night wit' me?"

 

Mike cocked his head. "Twenty if you want me to jerk you off, forty for a blowjob and I don't allow anyone to fuck me."

 

"How much for the whole night?" Remy felt strangely pleased that Mike wasn't selling his ass. At least Mike had been able to hold onto to some of his dignity. Hugo took 'way mine...

 

Mike's eyes narrowed. "The whole night?" That was a first. "Let's see... one fifty?"

 

Remy uncovered his wallet and took out the money. "Here." He handed the money to Mike, who quickly put it away in his pocket.

 

"You want to party, handsome?" Mike placed a possessive arm around Remy's waist and was surprised to feel the tremors that moved through the other man's body .Come to think of it, Remy didn't look any older than eighteen. "Or is this your first time with a man?"

 

"What gave me 'way?" Remy stared at the pavement.

 

Mike smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about a thing. I'll take care of it."

 

Remy started to walk, leading Mike down the street. Several of the other male prostitutes whistled as they passed by.

 

"They're just jealous," Mike teased, wondering where Remy was taking him. Most of the customers preferred to rent a room for the hour in one of the cheap hotels. "Where are we going, handsome?"

 

"Back to my place... is dat 'kay wit' you?" As a boy he had taken his johns to his room, never trusting them when they offered to take him to their place.

 

"Sure, kid."

 

Remy flinched. Kid, Dave called me kid as well.

 

"Are you okay? You look tired, Remy." Mike was surprised when Remy turned left, heading for the wealthier part of New York. He didn't get an answer and they walked for at least thirty minutes. In the end, Remy stopped in front of an apartment building and opened the door. After stepping into the elevator, Remy pressed the button for the penthouse and Mike whistled, impressed. "Should have asked for more money, huh?"

 

Remy startled briefly, but then felt the gentle amusement in Mike's mind. Remaining silent, he opened the door to the penthouse and stepped inside. Behind him, Mike entered as well.

 

"Great place you've got here." Mike's gaze traveled from the valuable paintings to the sculptures, high-tech TV and audio set and he finally ended up looking out over New York. This penthouse cost more than he could ever earn in his life.

 

"Glad you like it." Remy moved into the kitchen. "What would you like to drink?"

 

"What are you having?" Mike joined Remy in the kitchen. The younger man puzzled him.

 

"Tea."

 

"Sounds fine with me." Mike watched Remy closely as he prepared the tea and found that Remy's hands were trembling, which confirmed his suspicion; Remy had never picked up a prostitute before.

 

Remy handed Mike the tea and walked over to the couch in the living room, where he sat down. Sighing, he waited for the tea to cool down. Mike sat down opposite him and Remy felt awkward and embarrassed for actually taking Mike home with him. He placed the cup of tea on the coffee table to remove his boots, but suddenly Mike moved, kneeling in front of him. Remy froze, staring at Mike in a panic that was quickly building.

 

"Let me do that. After all, you're paying me for my time." Mike saw the panic in Remy's eyes and slowly removed the boots. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he realized that he had never been in such a strange situation before. "What do want me to do tonight?"

 

"I need companionship," Remy replied softly. "No sex... don' want dat, mais... would you hold me tonight?" His empathy told him that Mike could be trusted, that the man already cared, worried about him.

 

"Sure, if that's what you want." What other surprises had Remy in store for him? Fuck, Remy had taken off his sunglasses and the eyes were red on black! The kid was a mutant! Mike licked his lips; did this make a difference? No.

 

After finishing his tea, Remy got to his feet and walked into the bedroom. Mike followed him, feeling curious. He even smiled when Remy disappeared into the bathroom to take off his clothes. Mike stripped quickly, but left his boxers on, not sure what Remy wanted from him and the kid seemed insecure at best.

 

When Remy returned he was wearing sweat pants and a long sleeved shirt. Mike raised an eyebrow. "You sure you won't be too hot wearing all that?"

 

"I'm bien," Remy said softly, shuffling his feet.

 

Mike walked toward him, took Remy's hand in his and led him to the bed. They slipped between the covers and instinctively he spooned up behind Remy. "This okay?"

 

"Perfect." Remy was fighting the tears, which were building in his eyes. It had been so long since someone had held him like this that it seemed like an eternity. It didn't matter that only three months had passed since he had lost Benjamin and Dave.

 

Mike kept one arm wrapped around Remy and let his other hand tangle gently in the long auburn hair. "You want to go to sleep now, or...?"

 

"Sleep, oui." Remy closed his eyes and relaxed against the muscular body behind him.

 

Mike continued the caresses until Remy's breathing evened out. Remy seemed innocent and honest. Maybe he should tell Remy that he wasn't a real prostitute, but an undercover cop.

 

///

 

The next morning, Remy woke rested. At first, he panicked, not understanding why someone's arms were wrapped around him, but then he remembered Mike. Slowly, he turned in the embrace until he faced Mike, who was still asleep. Now that the sunlight illuminated his bedroom, he realized just how much Mike resembled Dave. The two men could have been twins if it hadn't been for the different hair and eye color. 

 

Maybe he could convince Mike not to go back to working the streets. Maybe he could help Mike find a decent job and support him financially until Mike was able to support himself without prostituting himself. Those were a lot of maybes.

 

"Hey, good morning, handsome." Mike had felt Remy's eyes on him and the sensation had woken him up. Just don't try anything, kid, or I'll put the fear of the law in you.

 

Remy blushed. "Breakfast?"

 

"Sounds great. Need help?"

 

"Non, why don' you take a shower instead?" Mike would be leaving soon and Remy wanted to spoil him a little.

 

Mike nodded his head. "Thanks." Yeah, maybe he should tell Remy...

 

///

 

"Please sit down." Remy had made bacon and eggs and put a generous amount on Mike's plate.

 

After Mike sat down, he studied Remy again. "What's this all about, kid?" He started eating while he waited for Remy's answer. "It's dangerous to pick up men like that."

 

"I know dat," Remy admitted, poking his food. "Mais I needed someone close last night."

 

"I liked holding you." It was the truth. Sleeping that well with a stranger in his arms had surprised Mike as well.

 

"Mebbe you can come back tonight?" Remy asked, hopefully. "Money ain' an issue. Could even financially support you so you wouldn' have to go back to de streets."

 

Mike almost choked in his bacon and eggs. "What?" Was this kid offering to take care of him? He suppressed a chuckle. His captain had sent him undercover to find out more about a serial killer and now this kid wanted him off the streets? "Sorry, sounds tempting, but I want to be independent."

 

Disappointed, Remy nodded his head. He had hoped Mike would accept his offer.

 

"I'll be back tonight, okay, kid?" Mike didn't know why he suddenly felt like a bastard. Maybe it was the vacant expression in the alien eyes. He was still trying to get used to them. "Don't go back out and picking up a man. I will be here at midnight, okay?"

 

"Oui..." Remy played with his bacon and eggs, moving them about on his plate. "I'm serious, you know. Don' want you back on de streets."

 

Something about that tone set off Mike's alarms. I'll be damned... Did he work the streets once and is he trying to help me? The thought touched something deep inside him. He hadn't felt this deeply since his brother had died. "I know you're serious and I really appreciate it."

 

"Mais de answer is still non."

 

"I'm afraid so. Look, kid, I have to go now, but I'll see you tonight. Don't come looking for me if I’m late."

 

Remy smiled, pleasantly surprised by the warm concern in Mike's mind. "I'll stay in tonight."

 

"Good." Mike grabbed his coat and slipped into his boots. "Be careful, kid."

 

"You too," Remy whispered, wondering why he was feeling dizzy.

 

///

 

"It's true, LeBeau. Dere's a new t'ief in town. We got several tips from informants dat a young girl is workin' de territory and she ain' wit' de Guild."

 

Emile, Remy's contact seemed worried and that worried Remy in turn. "I'll look into de matter."

 

"It's bad for business." Emile looked expectedly at Remy LeBeau, the Patriarch's adopted son. "You're pretty much in charge here in New York."

 

It was true. All thieves respected Jean-Luc LeBeau and once the news had spread that Remy had taken up residence in New York, none of the resident Guild thieves had challenged him. "What do you know 'bout de girl, mon ami?"

 

"She's dark skinned, has white hair and white eyes. Dey t'ink she's a mutant too."

 

Remy flinched. "A mutant?" That meant he had to find her as quickly as possible. The Guild Thieves considered mutants an abomination as he had experienced first hand when Jean-Luc had introduced him to other thieves. He had felt their loathing. "Tell dem dat I'm takin' care of de matter. If someone hurts her he has to answer to me."

 

"I'll tell dem." Emile finished his coffee and rose from his chair. They always met in this little coffee shop; it was quiet and personal here. "You got a message for your père?"

 

"Tell him I'm bien." Remy closed his eyes behind the sunglasses, trying to control the raging need to ask Jean-Luc to visit him. When he opened his eyes again, Emile was gone. Checking the time, he found that it was close to midnight. Mike... Would Mike keep his promise and come to his apartment tonight? There was only one way to find out.

 

Remy paid for their drinks, pulled his long coat closer to his body and left the coffee shop, heading back to his penthouse.

 

///

 

Remy's eyes grew big, seeing Mike pace the entrance of the building. "You're early."

 

"And I told you to stay home. Where were you? Did you go back out looking for someone else?"

 

Remy raised an eyebrow. His empathy picked up on concern and... jealousy? Was Mike worried that he would turn to another prostitute? If that was the case, it wasn't because of the money. What he felt was real jealousy. Does dat mean he cares? His heart beat a faster rhythm, realizing that Mike really wanted to see him. "Come inside," he offered, opening the door and heading for the elevator. "Same price as last night or has de price gone up?" Part of him hoped that Mike would refuse the money, but he was deluding himself. Mike was a hustler, trying to make money.

 

"Same as last night," Mike said eventually, leaving the elevator as they arrived at the penthouse. He dropped his coat onto a chair and sat down on the couch. Remy was in the kitchen again, preparing tea. "I've got to ask, kid... where does the money come from? How can you afford this place?"

 

Remy handed him the tea and sat down on the other end of the couch. "Got a wealt'y père."

 

"Where are you from? You're not from around here."

 

"N'Awlins."

 

"Cajun, huh?"

 

"Oui." The silence returned and Remy began to feel shy. He should probably pay Mike first. "Here." He placed the money on the coffee table.

 

Mike nodded once. "Same routine as yesterday?"

 

Remy simply stared at him. He wanted to touch Mike, caress his face... Mon Dieu, I can' be fallin' in love wit' him! He'll never give up hustlin'...

 

"What is it, Remy?" Mike placed his coffee mug on the table and moved a little closer. Gently, he removed the sunglasses. "Do you really need them at night?"

 

"Non," Remy whispered, breathlessly. "Jus' don' want people to see my eyes." Mon Dieu, Mike was close and his mind felt warm and inviting...

 

"Looks to me like you want to do more than me holding you." Mike smiled reassuringly. He shouldn't get involved with Remy, but maybe...

 

"I'd like to kiss you," Remy admitted, shakily. "Mais I can' do dat."

 

"Why is that?" Mike raised his left hand and gently stroked the auburn locks.

 

"You're a hustler, doin' dis for money. It'd be a lie." He had set himself up, thinking he could convince himself that he could do this. Mike was a hustler; this wasn't about feelings.

 

"Then forget about the money," Mike said firmly. "The truth is that I like you too. If we hadn't met this way I would have asked you to date me."

 

"Wouldn' work, chèr," Remy laughed, embittered. "Been searchin' for l'amour my whole life... I can' settle for less."

 

"What if I told you that I've been thinking about you all day?" It was the truth. He had been less alert than usual and although he had found new clues that might lead him to the serial killer, meeting Remy again had been on his mind constantly. Was this love at first sight?

 

"Mike?" Remy tried to sort out his feelings for Mike, realizing he felt attracted to him as well. Mon Dieu, dat means I'm bi!

 

"Remy, can I kiss you?" The cornered expression in Remy's eyes worried Mike. Were his suspicions correct and had Remy been a prostitute himself? How old could the kid have been when he had worked the streets? Had he been a minor? His blood was beginning to boil. He was out there on the streets every day and tried to talk to the really young boys, even called in his colleagues to have them arrested, hoping someone would look after them and make sure they didn't end up on the streets again.

 

"I ain' sure," Remy said, shyly. "I'm scared."

 

"I figured that much." Mike nodded his head. "I'll be gentle, kid."

 

Remy pinched his eyes tightly shut and waited for Mike to take the initiative. When nothing happened, he searched the other man's gaze. "What?"

 

"I want you to kiss me. I think you need to be in control here."

 

Remy trembled. "You know..."

 

"I think so... how old were you?"

 

"Nine..."

 

"Nine?" Anger burned in the pit of his stomach. "Nine? Where were your parents, Remy?"

 

"Don' have any." Non, Sinister ain' my fat'er... he was jus' playin' games!

 

"Come here..." Mike carefully wrapped his arms around Remy, encouraging him to rest his head on his shoulder. "I need to tell you something before we take this any further." Remy trembled in his arms.

 

"Oui?" He finally relaxed in Mike's arms, feeling like he had known the man for years. This had to be love.

 

"I'm not really a hustler." Mike held his breath as Remy freed himself of the embrace to lock eyes with him. "I'm a cop, undercover." The tremors grew worse. Shouldn't hearing that he was a cop reassure Remy?

 

"A cop? Are you arrestin' me?"

 

"No, you didn't do anything illegal."

 

"I paid you to come home wit' me..."

 

"To hold you in your sleep. That's not against the law. If you had paid me to have sex with you..."

 

Remy abruptly got to his feet. "Please leave."

 

"Why?"

 

Remy shook violently. Dave had been a cop... "I can' do dis anymore... Please don' come back here ever 'gain... I'll probably move somewhere else."

 

Mike rose from the couch and came to a halt in front of Remy. "Look at me, please?"

 

"What?" Why had he fooled himself into thinking he could do this? Why did I have to fall for him? I want him close... Is it jus' 'cause he reminds me of Dave?

 

"Why don't we start all over again? Let's meet for dinner tomorrow evening and then we'll see what happens?"

 

"A date?" Non, don' do dis to me! Jus' leave me, get outta my life! Being in love with a man scared him and now Mike was offering to start dating?

 

"Yes, a date. Let's say about eight? I'll pick you up and you can choose the restaurant." Realizing that Remy needed a moment to compose himself, he considered leaving, but Remy had asked him here to hold him during the night. "What do we do now, Remy? It's your call, kid. Want me to leave or to stay?"

 

"What will happen if you stay?" His voice trembled.

 

"I'll hold you in your sleep, just like last night... nothing else will happen."

 

Tell him to go 'way! He's a cop and you're a t'ief! It will never work out! Oh mon Dieu, what if Julien is still watchin' me, gettin' ready to move in and kill Mike like he killed Benjamin and Dave? I can' take dat risk. "You'd betta leave and never come back. I'm trouble."

 

Mike heard the words, but was convinced that Remy didn't mean them. There was something about the tone that was too damned off. "Why are you trouble?"

 

"De people I care 'bout die... de last two people I cared 'bout were killed by... someone from my past. He might come after you too." Why was Julien doing this to him? Why was Julien making his life miserable? Hadn't he suffered enough?

 

"This man killed your friends? Did you go to the police?"

 

Remy laughed, embittered. You have no idea who you're dealin' wit'. De police can' take on de likes of Julien, Creed or Sinister. De only way I can protect you is by leavin' you.

 

Mike was startled, hearing Remy's frantic laughter. "Hey, calm down, kid." Acting on instinct, he folded his arms around Remy and guided the younger man to the bed. When Remy didn't object, Mike stripped him quickly, took off his own clothes as well and held Remy close, lying spooned behind him. "I don't know what happened to your friends, but you should talk to the detective in charge of solving the case."

 

I can' do dat, chèr... dey'd never believe me... and I'd endanger deir life. Remy closed his eyes and clung to Mike, who held him through the night.

 

///

 

"De girl was seen 'gain, LeBeau. She was near de museum, checkin' out de security system. De Guild is gettin' impatient. You need to deal wit' her." Emile sipped his coffee, trying to pinpoint the change in Remy LeBeau. The young thief looked rested, but at the same time restless.

 

"Anyt'ing else?" Remy stared into the dark coffee, trying hard not to think of Mike.

 

"Looks like de Shadowking is interested in her. Last thin' I heard was Lian released de hounds to track de girl down."

 

"Merde!" Remy slammed his fist into the table. He had tried tracking her down as well, but the girl was smart and didn't leave any traces to go by. It didn't help that he was thinking about Mike most of the time either. "I'll find her," he vowed.

 

Satisfied, Emile left the coffee shop. Remy was lost in thought, trying to figure out how to find her and didn't notice Mike walking up to him.

 

"Remy?"

 

"What?" Startled, Remy looked up. "Mike, what are you doin' here?"

 

"I could ask you de same thing, kid. We arrested the perp I was after and the case is closed. I'm back to my normal routine. Do you know we're watching this place because a lot of known thieves hang out around here?"

 

"T'ieves? Non, didn' know dat." Remy acted like he didn' care, but grew alert. Why was Mike here?

 

"Care to explain this to me?" Mike shoved a letter across the table. "It's from my brother." Calm, he had to stay calm and give Remy a chance to explain himself. Long, gracious fingers, opened the envelope and Remy's eyes grew big. "Why don't you read it aloud?"

 

Remy licked his lips... I can' do dis! But he started reading it anyway.

 

Hi Mike,

 

I know it's been a while since I invited you over, but we're having a guest over and the kid scares easily, but I should start at the beginning. Benjamin and I are fine. We just celebrated our fifth anniversary and we plan on throwing a party later this month. You're invited of course and feel free to bring a friend.

 

Work is stressful, but what's new? I don't have to tell you about being a cop. Man, we really should get together again and catch up. We'll do that at the party all right?

 

You're probably wondering about our guest. Yeah, we don't usually take people in, but you should meet this kid. Remy's nineteen years old and... Benjamin turned into a mother hen and can't stop fussing over Remy. I found the kid in a dark tunnel, his back and chest had been slashed open. He didn't have a place to stay after Bennie discharged him and he accepted our invitation to stay with us. Bennie thinks Remy was abused as a child, but it's hard to find information on the kid, as I don't know his last name. By the way, Remy's a mutant, an empath. He has the most unique eyes I've ever seen, red on black. Man, you really have to meet him. Remy's a great kid. If I'd had a son I would have liked him to be like Remy...

 

"Non, please, can' read any furt'er." Mon Dieu, dis can' be happenin'! But he was holding Dave's letter in his hands; a letter Dave had written his brother. Sacre mère... Mike and Dave are brot'ers. Dat's why Mike reminded me so much of Dave! What if he t'inks I killed dem? Dey'll never catch Julien... "I didn' kill dem... I cared 'bout dem..."

 

Mike watched Remy closely; so many different emotions were flashing across the younger man's features that he was an open book to the cop. Whatever suspicions he'd had were gone now. He didn't believe for one moment that Remy was the killer. "What happened? I have a right to know."

 

"Julien happened..." Remy wiped away a stray tear and tried to compose himself. "He's a professional assassin and hates my guts... He's probably still 'round, watchin' you, watchin' me... dat's why I wanted to stop seein' you... don' want you dead."

 

Mike leaned back in his chair. "What's an empath?"

 

Remy swallowed hard. "I can read your feelings."

 

"My feelings?"

 

"Dat's why I picked you dat night... You felt warm and honest. You seemed worried 'bout de ot'er boys and I felt safe wit' you." Remy dropped the letter onto the table. "Didn' know Dave and you were family."

 

Mike nodded his head once, slipping the letter back into his pocket. "What does this Julien look like?"

 

"You can' go after him, Mike." Remy shivered. "He'd kill you."

 

"Don't worry about that. I know now that he might come after me, I'll be careful."

 

"You don' understand..." He couldn't tell Mike about the Assassins Guild. Mike would never believe him. "Dis has got to end now."

 

"Remy?" Mike frowned.

 

"I can' keep seein' you. I have to move on, disappear from your life 'fore Julien makes his move."

 

"No, we're going to my place and find a solution to our problem." Mike got to his feet and extended his hand. "Come on, kid."

 

Remy dropped some money on the table to pay for their drinks and followed Mike out of the coffee shop, never accepting Mike's hand.

 

///

 

"Make yourself comfortable." Mike collapsed onto the couch in the living room, realizing how cheap and small his apartment looked compared to Remy's penthouse.

 

Reluctantly, Remy sat down on the chair opposite the couch, keeping his distance. "Dis has to be adieu, Mike."

 

"Are you in love with me?" Mike leaned forward, locking eyes with Remy. "Because I'm in love with you."

 

"Oui, I'm in love wit' you too, mais it can' be..." Julien will kill him... Julien will kill him... Gotta move on...

 

"So you're dumping me?"

 

"Mike, understand! I don' want you to die! Julien will move in and kill you!" Remy was shaking with anger. Julien was ruining his life again. Maybe he should go after the bastard and make sure he was dead by burying his bo staff in the man's heart. How hard was it to kill one of the living dead? How powerful was the Elixir?

 

"I can't change your mind?"

 

"Non, sorry..." Remy got to his feet, eager to leave. He wanted to put as much distance between them as possible to convince Julien that Mike meant nothing to him.

 

"Before you go..." Mike moved quickly, stepping up to Remy. Gently, he folded one arm around Remy's waist and pulled him close. "I need a memory..."

 

Remy held his breath as Mike claimed his lips. He moaned, squirmed in the embrace, parted his teeth and invited Mike's tongue in. Growing hard, he bucked against the other man. "Non, please, we can' do dis..."

 

"Why?" Mike asked, releasing Remy's lips.

 

"We can never see each ot'er 'gain..."

 

"I want to be with you, Remy... just this once... Please say yes..." Mike gently stroked the soft hair, traced Remy's jaw line and teased his bottom lip by running his tongue along it.

 

"I've never been wit' a man..." Old fear slipped back into his voice. "Can' be on de bottom..."

 

Yeah, Dave mentioned you’d been abused... "You can be on top, Remy."

 

"You'd let me do dat?" Remy felt boneless; only Mike was keeping him on his feet. "Don' know if I can get it up."

 

"You feel hard to me, handsome..." Mike teased, kneading Remy's erection through the fabric of his jeans. "Let me love you... just this once..."

 

Remy was lost, feeling Mike's love and affection. We could have worked out... Saddened, he fought back his tears. The fear was lurking, ready to stop him from taking the next step, but he was determined not to let the fear beat him this time.

 

"I'll be gentle... you'll be on top... we both need this, Remy..." Mike held his breath while Remy made up his mind. Would Remy accept his invitation? It would be Remy's first time.

 

Butterflies tickled his insides. I really want to make love jus' once in my life... "Oui," he whispered, barely audible. "Make love to me?" It was time to conquer his fear; he couldn't let his past rule his life.

 

Mike's smile sparkled. "Let's move this to the bedroom... we'll be more comfortable there."

 

Entranced, Remy followed him. Mike's king size bed looked extremely comfortable. His hands shook as he began to unbutton his shirt.

 

"No, let me do that." Mike caught Remy's hand in his and kissed the knuckles one by one.

 

Remy was trying hard not to tremble as Mike slipped the shirt off his shoulders after unbuttoning it.

 

"You're beautiful, Remy," Mike complimented him. The poor kid looked like a deer caught in the headlights with no way out. "Say no and we'll stop, okay?" After Remy nodded his head, Mike slowly unzipped his jeans. He pulled Remy's briefs down as well when he removed the jeans.

 

Remy stood naked in front of him and Mike swallowed hard, finding that scars marred the beautiful body. He grabbed the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around Remy. "Why don't you lie down? I'll join you in a sec. I need to get some condoms and lube."

 

Remy laid down, but continued to tremble uncontrollably. He and Mike were going to make love... An ugly memory tried to lure him into a flashback, but he banished Hugo to the depths of his mind. I don' wanna think 'bout him! I'm wit' Mike now!

 

When Mike returned he had shed his clothes as well. He placed the condom and Glide on the nightstand and joined Remy in bed. "We're going to take our time, handsome..."

 

Remy clutched the sheet, biting his lower lip as Mike's hands began to explore his body. He jerked as Mike touched his right nipple, teasing it into hardness.

 

"Can I remove the sheet, Remy?" Mike concentrated on rolling the now hard nub of flesh between his fingertips. Slowly, his lips descended on Remy's and he kissed him lazily. Remy began to relax and his fist loosened enough for Mike to pull away the sheet. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Remy?"

 

Shakily, Remy shook his head. "I'm scared... " he admitted.

 

"You don't have to be afraid. Trust yourself to me, Remy. I won't let you down." Mike waited for Remy's permission to continue his exploration, always keeping in mind that their first time would also be their last time. He wanted to make this as good as possible for Remy.

 

"Oui," Remy whispered his consent after probing Mike's mind again. The other man was sincere; he wasn't in any danger and it was safe to let go.

 

"Great..." Mike kissed Remy again, but this time he let his tongue travel down his lover's throat, still further down until it met a hard nipple, which he gently suckled.

 

"Oh, mon Dieu!" Remy bucked, and tiny tremors of arousal pooled in his groin. He was hard... growing harder still.

 

"You can touch me too," Mike whispered and guided Remy's hand to rest on his back. The tenderness in Remy's caresses almost made him choke up. How badly had Remy been hurt in the past? Would he be able to deal with the memories or freak out on him? "I like it when you touch me, Remy."

 

Encouraged, Remy stroked Mike's broad back, marveling at the man's soft skin. Mike moved, placed his knees at either side of his lover's hips and Remy tensed again.

 

"It's okay, Remy... I just want to touch you... You'll be inside me later when we make love..."

 

Remy was fighting his tears. Mike's love and affection was pouring into his soul, finally pushing back his fear. He welcomed Mike's tongue as it explored his mouth and raised his hips in want as his lover's fingers first touched his erection. Unable to speak he tried to use his body to tell Mike he really wanted this, but he was still scared, scared of the pain and the memories.

 

"We both want this, Remy... no one is forcing us to do this. I want to make love with you and you want this as well... we both want this... everything's okay..." Mike felt Remy relax and his tongue left a wet trail down his lover's belly; his destination was Remy's straining erection. "Want to taste you..." Closing his lips around the tip of Remy's cock, he teased the slit with his tongue.

 

"Non!" Remy abruptly sat upright, pushing Mike away. "You don' have to do dat!"

 

Mike managed to remain calm and cupped Remy's chin in the palm of his hand. "Someone forced you to go down on them?"

 

"Oui..." Remy was too embarrassed to look at Mike and kept his eyes pinched shut.

 

"Remy, I want to do this... I want to taste you. Want to see you squirm with need, to know that I'm the one who's driving you out of your mind..."

 

Remy finally felt confident enough to open his eyes. Mike was being honest. "Bien... touch me..." Giving Mike permission to proceed was easier than he had thought. Although his erection had faltered, Mike's talented tongue made him hard again. He surrendered to the butterfly kisses, which Mike pressed against his belly, the soft caresses that set his thighs on fire, and he lost himself in the sensations.

 

Mike smiled, grabbed a condom and opened the small package. With practiced ease he slipped it down Remy's throbbing cock. "You're close, aren't you?"

 

Remy could only nod his head. His entire body was on fire, demanding release and he yelped softly as Mike took one of his heavy balls into his mouth and then suckled the other. "Please..."

 

"How do you want to do this?" Mike wanted Remy to call the shots, but seeing the dazed expression in the alien eyes he knew Remy was too close to think coherently. "Okay, I'll make this good for you..." He took hold of the lube and coated Remy's erection generally with the Glide. "Are you ready?"

 

Remy nodded his head. "Are you sure? You don' have to..."

 

"But I want to..." Mike leaned in closer, kissed Remy's eyes and then lowered himself on the hard rod of flesh.

 

Remy gasped, tensed and his eyes grew big. "Chèr... be careful..."

 

Mike smiled and took in another inch of Remy's cock and another... until his buttocks rested against Remy's skin. He moved a little, then rose and let Remy's cock almost slip out of his body. Remy cried out when he pushed down again. "Remy, are you okay?"

 

"Oui... Mon Dieu... you're tight... ain' I hurtin' you?"

 

"No, you feel great..." Mike impaled himself again and set up a rhythm, watching Remy constantly. The younger man was squirming and started to thrust upward. "Yes, that's it... forget about your fear... make love to me, Remy... you can do this... I want you to do this..."

 

Remy brought up his arms behind Mike's back and pulled him close enough to kiss his lips. "Mon coeur... never felt like dis 'fore... what are you doin' to me?" Unable to hold back any longer, he began to thrust more forcefully, watching Mike slide up and down his cock. "Mike, chèr, mon coeur..."

 

Mike chuckled and curled his fingers around his own cock. "Remy, you don't know what you do to me..." Pumping himself in the same rhythm as Remy was thrusting, he brought himself to orgasm, shooting his come across Remy's belly.

 

Remy cried out helplessly as Mike's inner muscle clenched around him. "Oh... oh... Mike... mon Dieu... mon coeur!" Climaxing, he held on to Mike, pulling him close to his chest, burying his face against his lover's shoulder.

 

Mike wrapped his arms around Remy, clinging to him as well. He shouldn't say the words, knowing this would never happen again, but he did. "I love you, Remy..."

 

"Je t'aime..." Remy replied, without giving it a second thought. Life was cruel... he had finally found love, but couldn't stay. Staying meant certain death for Mike... Julien was lurking somewhere, waiting for his chance to kill his friends and lovers.

 

Mike rolled Remy onto his side, until they lay facing each other after Remy's sated sex slipped from his body. "That was my first time on the bottom," he confessed. "Never thought I'd like it that much."

 

"You did dat for me?" Remy nuzzled the skin beneath Mike's collarbone, only now truly understanding what Mike had done for him. The man was a top and had never bottomed before!

 

"Let's spend the night together?" Mike asked hopefully.

 

"Oui," Remy sighed; his eyes were closing and he felt safe in Mike's arms. "Sleep."

 

Mike smiled, pulled up the comforter to warm their cooling bodies and followed his lover into sleep.

 

///

 

Remy freed himself of Mike's embrace and sneaked soundlessly out of bed. After gathering his clothes, he retreated into the living room to get dressed. He didn't want to leave, didn't want to live without Mike, but he didn't have a choice. Julien had already killed Benjamin and Dave and he couldn't take the risk that his nemesis would kill Mike as well.

 

After getting dressed, he picked up Mike's coat and uncovered the letter, which he wanted to take with him as a constant reminder of the people that he cared about. Maybe he should leave Mike something personal? He removed the small diamond stud from his right ear and placed it on the table. He was tempted to write Mike a goodbye note, but decided against it. It would only add to Mike's pain.

 

Soundlessly, he left Mike's apartment, never to return again.

 

///

 

Waking up, Mike knew at once that he was alone in the room. Remy was gone. Sighing, he sat upright and left the bed. Listlessly he walked into the living room and immediately noticed the diamond stud on the coffee table. His fingers closed around the stud and he decided that he needed to get his ear pierced so he could wear that stud for the rest of his life.

 

///

 

Remy had returned to his penthouse, changed into his armor and pushed all thoughts of Mike out of his mind. He had promised Emile to find the girl and it was time to keep his word. Closing the door behind him, he carried his personal possessions with him in a duffle bag. He wouldn't come back here, couldn't take the risk of running into Mike again.

 

///

 

His empathy easily picked up on the Shadowking's hounds and he took up pursuit. Seeing the white-haired girl running for her life, he realized he couldn't turn his back on her. He had to take out the hounds. Moving quickly, he ran toward her, extending his bo staff, charging it and attacked the hounds. A few minutes later he had disposed of them and stared at the little girl in front of him. The things he saw in her eyes and felt in her mind made him dizzy. She wasn't what she appeared to be. He felt an adult inside a child's mind. "Need help, petite?"

 

She studied him closely. "Maybe."

 

"Name's Gambit, petite," Remy said, bowing gallantly and kissing her hand.

 

"I'm Storm..." she introduced herself.

 

In the distance he felt Lian's presence. Hounds were still searching the area, closing in on them. "We'd betta leave, Stormy..."

 

"Yes, you're right," she agreed. "Let's leave this place."

 

///

 

"Take a breat', chère, we got air!" They struggled to the surface, spitting out the water that had kept them from breathing. 

 

"Nanny... Orphanmaker!" Storm was still panting, sucking oxygen into her abused lungs. She remembered now, remembered who she really was.

 

Nanny and the Orphanmaker had done their best to capture them, but had failed. Their plane was sinking rapidly behind them.

 

"Barely able to save our backsides, Stormy. Not even a ghost of a chance to try for dem. Dey don' get out on deir own, dey're still inside de ship. At de bottom of de swamp. Won' hear no sobs from me 'bout dat. Good riddance, I say." Looking at her, he smiled. He had really been worried about her.

 

"Thank you for the rescue." Storm accepted his help and allowed him to pull her along, away from the crash sight.

 

"Jus' doin' what comes natural, chère, same as you." How did I come to care dis much 'bout you, Stormy? You're de sister I never had. "We work pretty well toget'er. Be a shame to break up de team when we're jus' gettin' started." He simply wasn't ready yet to let her go and mourn the loss of another friend.

 

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm afraid there is more to this than just you and I." How was she going to tell him that she remembered who she really was?

 

"You're talkin' different. Voice sounds...older..."

 

"It is. I am... no longer quite the girl you befriended."

 

Remy stared deep into her eyes. Oui, 'ways knew dere was somet'in' old hidin' in your mind...

 

"Tell me, Gambit," Storm started, after making her decision to take Gambit to Westchester. He would make a great addition to the team. "Have you ever heard of a band of mutant heroes called the X-Men?"

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The last fragment is from the X-Men comic, number 267, Early September. No copyright infringement is intended. I just thought it might be nice to finish with some canon.


	3. Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This sequel starts with Remy being abandoned by Rogue at Antarctica. Still mourning Benjamin and Dave's death and having to leave Mike behind, he tries to pick up the pieces and returns to Westchester to live in the boathouse, shunned by most X-Men and he's taken off the team. Tragedy strikes again and Remy finds himself comforting one of his teammates.

Chapter 1

Antarctica

 

 

I never felt dis cold 'fore, mais it makes fuckin' sense; of course it's cold in Antarctica! Dey didn' even leave me my armor...

 

L'amour, affection, trust, fait', dey're gone now. I stopped believin' when Rogue flew 'way, abandonin' me, sentencin' me to dis icy deat'. I hoped de X-Men would come back to get me once dey realized I wasn' wit' dem. Hoped dat dey'd turn 'round to search for me. Mais non, it was all wishful t'inkin'. De citadel is my prison and deat' de only way out for me.

 

///

 

Remy shivered, trying to charge a card for warmth. He no longer possessed the strength to charge it fully or to cause an explosion. Right now, he was merely capable of creating a soft glow that provided him with a bit of warmth and light. Backing further into the corner of the room, he tried to draw in another agonizing breath. When had it become so hard to breathe?

 

Only a few seconds ago, part of the ceiling had collapsed and he had been scared that the debris would obstruct the doorway, but it looked like he might be able to squeeze through... barely. Making one false move meant getting buried beneath tons of debris.

 

And yet he kept on fighting. He refused to give in and let death claim him. Why? Why was he still fighting? Moving forward he tried to feel his way through the debris and his fingertips began to bleed as he clawed his way through the metal. He was buried alive. What had possessed him to come back inside after Rogue had left him? After she had sentenced him to death?

 

It had been too cold outside. He was only wearing trousers and he had shivered when the biting cold had hit his naked skin. After fleeing inside, he had hidden there, but then the ceiling had crumbled from the shock of the explosions, which raged on the upper level of the citadel. The whole structure was trembling on its foundations and he had better find a way out. But where to go?

 

"S-stop f-fightin', R-remy," he said aloud, his speech slurred. Accept de trut'! "D-dere's no w-way out and you're g-gonna die here. S-should have d-died a long t-time ago, me. Don' know w-why dey help me f-fight... Ben...jamin and D-dave died 'cause dey cared and M-m-mike... wonder if he's s-s-still 'live or did Julien k-kill him anyway?"

 

He had stopped shivering some time ago. Although he was icy cold, his body no longer fought the inevitable. With his bleeding fingers, he ripped away a panel and ducked as sparkles sizzled through the room. Electricity... would it strengthen his kinetic energy?

 

If only he could remove the isolation material to expose the copper beneath it. Maybe it would keep him alive. Stop it! Stop t'inkin' 'bout survivin'! Jus' accept de inevitable! But a part of him wanted to see Jean-Luc again to tell his father that he had forgiven him for stealing him from the hospital. Mattie... He also wanted to see Mattie again, maybe listen to her hum a lullaby... and Henri... Henri had done his best to be his big brother, but it had been to no avail. Here he was, alone and hurting and none of his family was here, or even knew where he was!

 

Icy blood stuck to his fingertips, freezing instantly as it hit the cold air. After a few futile attempts, he gave up on removing the isolation material. Bowing his head, he slid down the wall and sat on the cold metal floor. In the distance, another explosion rocked the citadel. He could die of hypothermia, starve to death or the debris might bury him alive. None of those ways of dying appealed to him. 

 

"It's t-t-time to let g-go, L-le...Beau," he whispered, his slurred speech getting even worse. "P-poppa, M-mattie, Henri, I'm so s-s-sorry I let you d-down, mais I didn' k-know what to do when Ju...lien challenged m-m-me... Ai, B-belle, de Elixir made you jolie 'gain... you're 'live, r-r-rulin' de As...sas...sins. I'm glad for you, chère... I -d-d-did love you... s-s-sooooo s-s-sooooorry..."

 

I regret so many t'ings... I regret allowin' Benjamin and Dave taking me in. I loved dem... dey were kind to me and in love wit' each ot'er... I regret leavin' Mike... mais I had to leave 'cause I wanted him to stay 'live... I regret lyin' to Rogue... ma chère, we could never have been truly happy... I loved you 'cause I pitied you... know how bad it feels when your powers are out of control, me... Rogue, please forgive me for tryin' to make somet'in' work dat never stood a chance...

 

Tiredly, he closed his eyes, knowing he wouldn't be able to open them again. The cold froze his eyelashes to his skin. I'm so sorry... My life was a series of mistakes, of lost opportunities and bad choices. I did de best I could, mais it never was 'nough... I feel tired, so tired... Wonder what deat' will be like...

 

It was getting harder to breathe and he was slipping toward unconsciousness. His breathing almost came to a stop and his skin faded to white.

 

///

 

"Damn, I should have come sooner. I may be too late..." Sinister stepped away from the tesseract and walked toward Remy. The young man appeared frozen in death; no breath left his lips and his eyes were frozen shut. Remy's torso revealed gray and white areas, indicating frostbite. "I have to act quickly..." Sinister knelt beside Remy and gently slipped his arms beneath the younger man's back and knees.

 

Handle the victim gently. Rough handling can cause heartbeat irregularities and death.

 

Professor Sanders' words drifted back into his mind. The old physician had been his mentor when he had first ventured out in the medical field, and the accomplished physician had accompanied him every step of the way. He lifted Remy gently and already tried to examine his patient.

 

Victims of moderate to severe hypothermia have an altered level of consciousness and fluctuating changes to their heart and respiratory rate. They may be shivering and their core body temperature is usually below 33°C.

 

Sinister nodded his head, recalling everything Professor Sanders had ever told him about hypothermia. Almost a hundred years had passed and he still recalled every word vividly. After stepping through the tesseract with his charge, he headed for his laboratory.

 

///

 

The first thing he did after placing Remy on the exam table was to raise the room temperature. Next, he had to set up a treatment plan, but what did he know about treating hypothermia? Professor Sanders had lived one hundred years ago and in the meantime, new treatments had been introduced.

Sinister gently checked for airway obstructions. Although Remy appeared dead, Sinister still felt a very weak pulse. The young man was hanging in there, fighting for his life. "A true Essex..." Pride colored his tone.

Remy's trousers radiated cold and he quickly removed them, finding even more gray and white areas. He took great care not to touch the areas suffering from frostbite and wrapped Remy in warm blankets. His strength came in handy when he gently lifted Remy to put a warm comforter beneath him.

Sinister put his patient on an EKG and a continuous blood pressure monitor. Methodically, he placed a foley catheter to monitor urine output. He started an IV of normal saline, which he hooked up to a warming device that warmed the normal saline before it entered Remy's body. After placing a mask over Remy's mouth and nose, warm, humidified oxygen flowed into his patient's lungs.

Hopefully, Remy would recover quickly; he couldn't afford to lose this source of DNA. Remy's DNA was special and precious. Once the warm, humidified air was flowing through the oxygen mask, he stood back, studying Remy's vital signs, which were improving.

 

Now that he had taken care of the hypothermia, the frostbite worried him. He knew better than to touch or rub the damaged areas. He even made sure that the blankets weren't making contact with the frozen flesh. Blisters were already developing and they would hurt like hell once Remy regained consciousness. "Let's hope it's only superficial frostbite," he mumbled softly.

 

He filled a tub with warm water an antiseptic solution. For the next thirty minutes, he placed warm compresses on the affected areas. After wrapping Remy back up into the cocoon of blankets, he checked his son's vital signs again. They were still improving.

 

Keeping a close eye on his patient, Sinister hoped Remy would regain consciousness shortly so he could check on his patient's mental state. Once Remy was conscious he could drink something warm and sweet to get his blood sugar level balanced again, but now... all he could do was wait.

 

///

 

Ten minutes later Remy was stable, but still unconscious. His core temperature had risen and Sinister felt confident that his patient would survive. He re-applied the warm compresses to the areas affected by frostbite and quickly pulled the blankets back in place. When would Remy begin to shiver? The mere act of shivering would help raise his body temperature!

 

He had long ago pulled up a chair and now sat watching his patient, wondering why he was fussing over Remy. He had also fussed over Remy that first time, after he performed brain surgery on his son. Why was he worried?

 

"His empathy..."

 

When he had talked to the thieves in New Orleans, they had told him about Le Diable Blanc's charm, but he had seen right through it. Remy's empathy had kicked in and allowed him to read and manipulate other people's feelings, even when he wasn't aware he was doing it. And that was what was happening now... Remy's empathy made him remember feelings he hadn't experienced in decades.

 

He had been married once... had been in love, had had a son he had loved, but he had sacrificed all that for science. Did he regret his choices? That was hard to say as he no longer felt regret, love or hatred. He didn't love Remy, but didn't hate him either. The boy existed and his prime objective was to make sure Remy survived so he always had access to his DNA.

 

An hour passed and Sinister grew impatient. Surely Remy should be regaining consciousness by now? Running another test to study Remy's vitals, Sinister found nothing alarming. Remy was sound asleep and the areas affected by frostbite were regaining their normal tint. It didn't look like Remy would suffer permanent injuries; the boy would make a full recovery. But the skin damaged by the frostbite would be extremely painful once Remy woke up. His son would be confined to his bed for a few days.

 

Thirty minutes later, Sinister caught the fluttering of Remy's eyelids and he moved closer. Tremors shook his son's body and Remy fought to remove the oxygen mask. Sinister placed his right hand firmly over the mask, making sure Remy couldn't push it away. Remy didn't have any control over his hands and they were swinging frantically. In the end, Sinister gently took hold of them, placed them back beneath the blankets and adjusted the warm compresses.

 

"Gambit? Remy? Can you hear me?" Remy definitely reacted to hearing his name and the red on black eyes flashed open. Sinister smiled, pleased, and nodded his head. "The prodigal son returns."

 

///

 

Non... Ai, non... not Sinister... He fought to keep his eyes open and he wanted to raise his hands to push away the oxygen mask, but found that he couldn't move his arms at all. They were trapped beneath several blankets and wrapped in warm compresses. His eyes locked with Sinister's. Facing death had made him bold and he didn't fear any punishment he might face at Sinister's hands.

 

Sinister acknowledged the pleading expression in Remy's eyes. "I found you in the citadel and brought you to my laboratory. You're suffering from severe hypothermia, Remy. Don't try to move too much. Your core temperature is stabilizing, but the oxygen mask needs to stay in place."

 

Hypothermia? Oui, he remembered the cold and trying to get to the copper to recharge his kinetic energy, but his frozen and bleeding fingertips had hampered him.

 

"Remy? Do you want some tea? It would help raise your body temperature and I want you to take a bath later."

 

Remy blinked. Why was Sinister fussing over him? The monster didn't have any feelings!

 

"I'm going to get the tea. Now don't move and rest." Sinister disliked leaving Remy alone, even only for a minute, but he had to fetch the tea and he didn't trust any of the Marauders to help him. He didn't want them to know anyway. He was having a hard time controlling Creed as it was.

 

Remy's eyes closed and he listened to Sinister's retreating footfalls. He had to move now! Once Sinister was back he couldn't risk an escape attempt! Huh? Why weren't his legs moving? Or his arms for that matter? He barely managed to cock his head and moaned softly as a sharp pain swept through his body. Mon Dieu! His hands, arms and feet hurt!

 

"It's frostbite," Sinister explained as he returned, seeing the pained expression on Remy's face. "The tissue is reheating and the pain is actually a good sign. Try to drink this." Extremely carefully, Sinister helped Remy to sit upright, piling several pillows beneath his back. He removed the oxygen mask long enough for Remy to sip. "I'll help you," he offered, knowing damn well that Remy couldn't use his hands. "I wrapped the damaged areas in warm compresses. I'll replace them after you take that bath." He had hauled the Victorian bath tub in to his lab earlier so Remy could remain hooked up to the warm humidified oxygen.

 

Why? Why didn' you lemme die? I don' wanna live... especially not as your prisoner... You ain' my fat'er... jus' playin' headgames wit' me. Lemme go... I don' want you to take care of me. I'm tired, me... let's stop playin' games and end it. Remy closed his eyes as Sinister helped him drink the tea. Although he hated admitting it, feeling the warm liquid flow down his throat felt soothing.

 

Sinister had read Remy's thoughts; his son's shields had been shattered and Remy no longer had any defenses. Realizing that Remy had a death wish surprised him. He didn't understand why a powerful mutant like his son let other people's actions affect him like that. Apocalypse had done him a big favor by removing his emotions, maybe he should offer Remy a similar bargain? But no, he already knew Remy would refuse. The young man cared too much and too deeply.

 

Remy wallowed in guilt and pain, pulling it close like a coat. It kept everyone outside, he trusted no one and thus he figured he wouldn't be hurt again and when someone did hurt him, he cherished the pain because it proved his point. Sinister shook his head in disapproval. Remy was too sensitive, a true empath.

 

After fastening the oxygen back over Remy's mouth and nose Sinister said, "It's time for your bath." He disposed of the now empty tea cup.

 

"N-non... n-no b-bath..." Remy cringed, finding that his speech was still slurred. He tried to take hold of the blanket, but his fingers didn't obey.

 

"You don't have a say in the matter, son." Sinister watched Remy's reaction closely and saw him flinch. "You are my son... it's the truth. I don't need to lie."

 

I don' wanna hear dis! The oxygen mask made it impossible to carry a conversation and he suspected that Sinister was reading his mind, instead of listening to his slurred words.

 

Sinister peeled off the blankets and Remy shivered violently as he lost his protective cocoon. Non, please don'... But Sinister didn't acknowledge his protest and removed the last blanket as well. After gently removing the warm compresses, Sinister lifted him in his arms and Remy nearly yelped in surprise. Before he realized what was happening, Sinister had lowered him into the warm water. Now the shivering started in earnest and part of the reason was that Sinister was looking at him while he was completely naked!

 

Sinister picked up on his son's discomfort and understood. When he had learned that Remy had sold himself on Bourbon Street he had felt something akin to rage. But that was impossible; he didn't have any feelings anymore! The sensation had stemmed from the fact that the thief and Antiquary hadn't taken care of what belonged to him. The Antiquary had abused his son and Jean-Luc LeBeau had failed Remy miserably.

 

He ran a wet washcloth over Remy's back, carefully avoiding the few white/gray spots that still had to return to their normal skin tone. Remy's shivers grew worse and Sinister briefly considered telling his son that he knew about Bourbon Street, but decided against it. It would only add to Remy's discomfort.

 

When will I be able to move my fingers 'gain? Shocked, Remy stared at his bruised fingertips. The tips were black and blue, the nails torn off and his fingers carried a grayish color.

 

"Frostbite," Sinister explained again. He immersed Remy's hands in warm water and eased his son's head against the now warm metal headrest of the bath tub. "Does it hurt?"

 

Oui... Remy bit his bottom lip. It felt like someone was pushing hundreds of needles into his hands and feet. Mon Dieu, it hurt bad! He fought back the tears of pain that threatened to leave his eyes; he couldn't show Sinister how weak he was.

 

He sighed relieved when Sinister dropped the sponge. The scientist walked over to the room temperature control and raised it again. The oxygen mask was still in place and forcing him to inhale warm, humidified air. When would Sinister allow him to take it off?

 

Sinister collected some warm towels and helped Remy out of the tub. The younger man was incapable of staying on his feet unaided and Sinister carried him back to the exam table. After adjusting the oxygen mask, which had slipped slightly, he piled the blankets back on top of Remy's body. "I want you to sleep now."

 

Sleep... why can' I go to sleep forever? Huh, what's he doin'? When did he attach an IV port to my left arm and what's he injectin' in to it?

 

Remy's large, sleepy eyes begged him to answer his question. Sinister had read his son's thoughts and frowned. Remy was far too eager to die... "It'll help you sleep, Remy."

 

I don' have de power to fight you... A gentle warmth spread through his body and made him relax against his will. Falling asleep again, he felt Sinister's cold hand on his brow. Why didn' he lemme die?

 

///

 

Remy yawned sleepily, wondering why his mattress felt this hard, but when he opened his eyes, reality came crashing in on him. He wasn't in his bed; he was on Sinister's exam table. Just moving his head caused him to moan in pain and he decided to lie still for the moment. What had happened?

 

His memory was a little fuzzy, but he clearly recalled Rogue's face when she had flown away, leaving him to die in the cold. He had gone back inside the citadel and had managed to find a room shielded from the cold wind, but then the ceiling had collapsed and he had been forced to move out again.

 

In the end he had given up fighting for his life and accepted death instead. His body had felt numb and he had closed his eyes, ready to let Death claim him when Sinister had appeared. Sinister, where is he? Startled, Remy's eyes darted around the room, but he was alone, still tightly cocooned in several blankets.

 

The oxygen mask briefly made him panic, but Sinister had told him to leave it on because he needed it. Although he was severely tempted to cross the man, he didn't dare annoy Sinister so he accepted his fate.

 

Concentrating on his hands, he found that his fingers burned with pain. His feet, earlobes and nose also hurt. Frostbite, wasn't that what Sinister had said?

 

Mon Dieu, I survived 'gain... why? Why not lemme die? No one cares whet'er I live or die. No one... No one would notice me missin'...

 

"You need to rebuild your shields," Sinister said, entering the room. Remy seemed fully awake and alert, which he deemed a good sign. "I brought you more hot tea."

 

You're readin' my t'oughts! Oh, how he wished his shields were still intact.

 

"We're both telepaths; like father like son." Sinister placed the tea mug on the table and quickly checked the latest readings of Remy's vital signs. "I'll remove the mask for now and we'll see how it goes."

 

What did you do to me? He was shivering, but wasn't sure whether it was due to the cold or Sinister's presence. Remy sighed, relieved, once the oxygen mask was gone.

 

"I found you in the citadel and brought you here." Sinister placed the mug at Remy's lips and encouraged him to sip slowly.

 

Mon Dieu! Remy cried out as the hot tea made contact with his cold insides. Coughing, he stared at Sinister helplessly. Why didn' you lemme die? I deserved to die and I wanted to die! 

 

Sinister watched his son struggle and made a decision. "You're an empath and a telepath... you're vulnerable because you feel everything so deeply. You easily overreact and desperately want people to like you. Feeling someone's hate or disapproval hurts you deeply because you're an empath. You'll need stronger shields." It was only part of the solution, but Remy needed to understand why he was reacting in a certain way.

 

Remy swallowed hard, cursing the fact that he couldn't leave his bed and walk out of the room. How much longer do I have to stay? He averted his eyes, unable to look at Sinister. Was the man really his father?

 

"And where would you go? Back to Westchester? The X-Men don't want you."

 

"Mais you do?" This conversation was draining him and he shivered beneath the blankets. Sinister helped him sip again and he nodded his head, indicating he had had enough.

 

Remy's empathy distressed him, distracted him from his objective and clouded his judgement. It was a good thing he had removed those cells from Remy's brain stem or his son might have become his superior in strength. "I don't care where you go, where you stay and whom you're with as long as you're alive."

 

"Why?" Remy shrugged deeper beneath the blankets, trying to hide from view. Staring into Sinister's eyes reminded him of his own. Sinister was probably telling him the truth; the red on black eyes were his father's legacy. "Why do you want me 'live?"

 

"You're my son, Remy. My flesh and blood. You carry my DNA and I need it for my experiments." Sinister explained his reasons to Remy in a clinical tone. "If you die I'll lose my source of DNA."

 

Makes sense... makes perfect sense... So am I your prisoner? Are you gonna keep me here? He didn't think he could bear being Sinister's experiment for the rest of his life.

 

"Once you're healed you're free to leave. I don't require your constant presence in my lab. When I need you, I will find you." Sinister checked the IV's and foley catheter, and nodded his head. "You'll be confined to bed for at least a few more days. The skin affected by the frostbite has started to blister and we need to watch for infection. Don't break the skin, Remy. Do you want something against the pain?"

 

Remy shook his head. Don' want you druggin' me.

 

Sinister gave him a long and thoughtful look. Turning away from his patient, he filled a syringe with a painkiller that would also make Remy sleepy. While looking Remy straight in the eyes, he injected the medication into the IV port. "You'll sleep for the next eight hours."

 

Remy resigned himself to his fate, knowing his hands were tied. There was nothing he could do to stop Sinister. One thing puzzled him though. Why not collar me?

 

Sinister raised an eyebrow. "You're my son, and you'll be treated accordingly."

 

You collared me 'fore de operation.

 

"Because your powers were out of control." The drug kicked in and Sinister watched Remy's eyes close. And you're in no condition to take me on... you're too weak and absolutely helpless...

 

///

 

Two days later, Remy was doing better. His core temperature had long since stabilized and the burning sensation in his extremities was growing less. However, the blisters remained and his fingers itched to break the skin. Sinister had caught him doing just that and the scientist had lectured him on the dangers of infection. He had felt quite guilty after that.

 

Although he was clinging to the blankets, which Sinister had tightly wrapped around him, he also wanted to leave his bed to find a way out of the scientist's lab. During the last few days he had lost some of his fear of Sinister and anger had taken its place. They needed to discuss so many things, but mentioning them meant accepting Sinister's role in his life. Eventually, he had to know. "Why kill ma mère?"

 

Sinister, who was sitting behind his computer console, was taken aback by Remy's unexpected question. "I already told you that I no longer needed her."

 

"What am I to you?" Remy trembled, speaking those words. "You're incapable of lovin' me and yet... you continue to save my life."

 

"I need your DNA." Sinister rose to his feet and approached Remy. "I chose your mother for a reason. She was an incredible strong mutant and her DNA combined with mine strengthened the gene pool." Thoughtfully, he studied his son. You have no idea just how strong you are. You could kill with a single thought, let a building collapse just because you wanted to. Once you discover your powers you'll hunt me down and then I'll have to kill you... at least I'll try to kill you. It would be so much easier to kill you now, but then I wouldn't have access to your mutating cells.

 

Remy weakly nodded his head. Sinister only wanted him for his DNA. Why couldn't he find someone to love him for who he was? No one loved him unconditionally... What 'bout Jean-Luc? Non, even his father had used him to unite the two Guilds. Mike, oui, maybe Mike had loved him unconditionally.

 

The pressure on his bladder kept growing and he needed to relieve himself, but he absolutely hated the foley catheter. "Can I use de bat'room? I t'ink I can cover de distance... please?"

 

Sinister hadn't expect the sudden change in subject, but adapted quickly. Remy hated the catheter, but it had been necessary as Remy had been confined to bed. "I'll remove it, but don't overdo it. You're only allowed to visit the bathroom when I'm here with you. I don't want you to take a fall and set back your recovery."

 

"Why do you care?" The question left Remy's lips unintended. He had never wanted to ask Sinister that particular question, but it was born out of frustration. Empathy wise he picked up nothing. Either Sinister's shields were impenetrable or the scientist had spoken the truth and no longer had any feelings at all. "Stop fussin' over me, pretendin' you care!"

 

"I care about my property, Remy, and as long as you shall live, you belong to me. Every cell in your body belongs to me. You're my flesh and blood." Sinister was in the process of pulling Remy gently to his feet, when the younger man's body tensed. "Don't look for hidden motives because I don't have any. I just want access to your DNA. That's all you mean to me."

 

Remy's eyes widened, realizing that not even his birthfather cared. No one cared. Sinister removed the catheter and he simply sat there, staring and silent because there was nothing left to say.

 

///

 

Another two days passed and Remy was now able to move about on his own. His feet hadn't been too badly damaged by the cold as he had been wearing boots, but his fingers, earlobes and nose were a different story. Sinister regularly bathed his hands in warm water and applied warm compresses to his ears and nose and yet, the burning sensation remained. He had come awfully close to dying in the citadel.

 

"Slip into them." Sinister had manufactured special gloves, designed to keep Remy's fingers extra warm. His son's nose and earlobes were returning to a normal skin tone, but Remy's hands worried him.

 

Remy obeyed and admitted he loved the soft silk-like fabric that cradled his burning fingers. He had needed Sinister's help to get dressed that morning and now he was wearing white sweat bottoms and a long-sleeved shirt. Sinister had also wrapped a long bathrobe around him to keep him warm.

 

"How much longer 'fore I can leave?" Remy asked in a tiny tone. He felt cornered and trapped and had started to feel claustrophobic.

 

"Before you can leave my base?" Sinister cocked his head. "At least four more days of rest."

 

"I wanna go back to Westchester," Remy admitted in an unguarded moment.

 

"So they can shun you?" Sinister didn't understand his son's need to return to the X-Men. "They no longer want you. They left you to die and now you're crawling back to them?"

 

Remy lowered his eyes. "I owe dem. Owe Rogue and Warren, owe dem, me." Slowly, he began pacing his room. "I lied to dem, never told dem I gat'ered de Marauders..."

 

"I had hoped then that you'd stay with me... that the Massacre would bind you to my side...but instead you ran." Remy would be leaving shortly, he saw it in his son's eyes. "You can always return here. You're my son and this can be your home."

 

Remy shivered. "Non, you ain' my fat'er and dis ain' home." He had accepted that Sinister was his birthfather, but the man had also murdered his mother and reduced him to an experiment for the rest of his life.

 

Sinister arched an eyebrow, considering this conversation over. "I suggest you stay inside this room until you leave. Creed is at the base as well and he hates your guts. Stay clear of him and rest." Sinister walked toward the doorway, looking back over his shoulder. Remy looked miserable, hiding beneath several layers of blankets, but the young man's will still wasn't broken. Remy would never give up.

 

"I'll be back shortly to bring you dinner. In four days I'll take you back to Westchester. Try to stay out of trouble during the remainder of your stay and rest."

 

Remy sighed as Sinister closed the door behind him. Finally he was alone again. Creed... The name made him shudder, but that didn't keep him from walking over to the doorway and opening the door. He didn't know if Sinister would truly take him back to the mansion and he couldn't take any risks. He had to find his own way home and somewhere in Sinister's base he would find the necessary means to return to Westchester.

 

///

 

Merde, walking longer distances was harder than he had thought. He had been on his feet for less than ten minutes and he was already panting from exhaustion. His body tingled and his fingertips protested every movement, as he used them to steady himself against the wall. Maybe he should have listened to Sinister and should have stayed in bed. Mais non, he needed to find a way out.

 

Electronic buzzing told him that he was approaching the control room, which was filled with computers and monitors. "Bien, mebbe dis will work after all." He knew how to hack a computer and maybe he could send a message. But den 'gain, will de X-Men react when receivin' my SOS? Will dey react or jus' ignore de call?

 

Merde, I can' type like dis! His fingers were bandaged beneath the mittens and made it impossible to type. Now what? He used both hands to lift a pen and clutched it between the palms of his hands. Dis way it'll take me ages to hack de computer! He was about to give up when the pen crashed hard onto the keyboard, hitting several keys. The screen flashed alive and Remy startled at seeing tons of snow and ice. The whiteness hurt his eyes and he looked away.

 

Antarctica... dat's where dey left me. Peeking at the screen again, he made out the contours of the citadel. This was the place where Rogue had deserted him. His eyes were glued to the screen. How had he survived the terrible cold? Sinister must have been just in time!

 

The cold... his body remembered the icy cold vividly and shivers rocked his body. They had never returned to rescue him. After Betsy had used her shadow walking ability to take them into safety, they had started up the Blackbird and had simply left. Their betrayal stung and briefly he agreed with Sinister; it was madness to return to Westchester when he wasn't wanted there.

 

But he didn't have a place to stay except for Westchester. Jean-Luc still hadn't given him the okay to come back home even though everyone knew Julien was still alive, so he couldn't go there... but what about New York? He could visit Benjamin and Dave's grave and maybe try to catch a glimpse of Mike. Oui, he would first go to New York and then travel to Westchester.

 

He was about to turn around and leave the control room when movement on the screen caught his attention. Something was happening at the citadel. His eyes grew big, recognizing the Blackbird, which landed near the citadel. The door opened and two small figures left the Blackbird. It took Remy some time to press the right button to enlarge the view.

 

They disappeared inside the citadel before he could get a good look at them, but one person was definitely male and the other female. What was the Blackbird doing here? Almost a week after Sinister had found him the X-Men were back. Where they looking for something? Had they lost something and were now eager to retrieve the object? It sure as hell ain' me dey're lookin' for. Mebbe dey're tryin' to figure out Eric de Red's identity?

 

Curious, he waited for them to leave the citadel again. It was a damned shame that Sinister didn't have any cameras inside the citadel and even if Sinister had had them, he didn't know how to access them. Twenty minutes passed and Remy grew uncomfortable. The longer he stayed, the bigger the chance got someone would discover him here.

 

Eventually the two X-Men reappeared, walking toward the Blackbird and he finally got a good look at them. Mon Dieu, it's Jean and Scott! Why? What are dey doin' at de citadel? Looking closely, he cocked his head, trying to confirm his suspicions that Jean was crying. Oui, I'm right... dose are tears... she's cryin', mais why?

 

Entranced, he watched Scott fold an arm around Jean to pull her close. A lump formed in his throat and his eyes began to water as well. The distance was still too big to read their lips, but Jean was definitely crying and upset. Suddenly, his attention was drawn to Scott's right hand. The X-Man was holding onto something... it was the copper he had failed to get to.

 

Had they come back for him? If they had, they were much too late. He would have died that very first night and they would only have found his corpse. Non, they hadn't returned because of him. Staring hard at the screen, he tried to read their facial expressions. Jean was an open book to him, but Scott was a lot harder to read.

 

Scott... He quickly averted his eyes. Don' go dere, Remy, jus' don' go dere. Don' t'ink of him, t'ink of Jean instead! Looking back up at the screen, he watched them board the Blackbird again. A minute later the plane took off, restoring the cold and silent landscape.

 

Confused, he pushed himself back to his feet, but cried out as the pain in his hands swept through his body. Merde, it would take him days to get used to favoring his hands!

 

Jean and Scott's visit to the citadel puzzled him. What had possessed the couple to make that trip and then to take the copper threads with them?

 

Oh, mon Dieu, Jean... if only you'd come a few days earlier... Had they wanted to check on him or not? He would probably never know the answer, unable to reveal he had witnessed the Blackbird land near the citadel. Jean... he loved her like a sister, the only sister he had left. He had tried to take care of Storm when she had suffered from amnesia and had been locked up in a child's body, but Storm no longer cared about him, not since learning about his role in the Morlock Massacre.

 

Belle, he had loved Belle, had looked forward to growing old together, but then Julien had ruined his future. Turning to Rogue for love later had been another mistake. He had identified with her, knowing how it felt when one's powers were out of control, but there had never been true love between them. Oui, he had cared deeply about her, but she had played him, keeping him at a distance, probably because she knew he didn't really love her. But she had been a safe choice, untouchable, and she had craved attention and affection as well.

 

His lovers... he had loved only one of them unconditionally, Mike. But Mike was beyond his reach and he had better accept that.

 

His lovers... the truth was that he had fallen in love when joining the X-Men, but he had never told the object of his affection, deeming it safer to suffer in silence and to focus on Rogue's needs instead. She had accepted him, but he had never forgotten about his secret love. Deep down in his heart he had always known that his love could never be.

 

I'm pathetic... Nobody loves me... Hobbling over toward the doorway he tried to recall the way back to his room. He didn't want to get lost here and end up invading Creed's territory. He had been a fool to venture out of his room in the first place.

 

Closing his eyes, he gathered his strength and set one foot in front of the other, trying hard not to stumble over his own two feet.

 

"Look what the cat dragged in..."

 

Creed! He would recognize that voice everywhere! Creed was behind him, but judging by the footfalls, the other mutant was quickly advancing on him. "Leave me... 'lone," he panted, tired from being on his feet for too long.

 

"Don't think so, LeBeau... I've been waitin' too long to get my hands on ya!" Creed purred and crushed the smaller man against him, firmly hooking his claws in place. "This is where I slashed ya open, boy..." His claws caressed the fabric of Remy's shirt, searching for a way to make contact with the other man's naked skin. "I bet ya'll never lose the scars..."

 

Remy panicked, feeling Creed's hard, warm body pressed behind him. Looking down, he froze, seeing Creed's claws. "Lemme go!" His eyes almost popped from their sockets, as Creed's erection rubbed against his ass. Non, this wasn't happening, couldn't be happening! The bastard couldn't be hard! Struggling, he tried to free himself of Creed's grip, but the mutant threw him hard against the metal wall, gathering his wrists above his head. Helpless, he tried to slow down his erratic breathing. Mon Dieu, why is he doin' dis?

 

"I knew there was a reason why Sinister wanted ya alive. I'd have gladly finished the job that night in the tunnels, but no, he had to stop me from rippin' open yer carcass. Looks like he ain't around now, boy..."

 

Remy's eyes stung with tears, but he refused to cry. "Lemme go, Creed." But his empathy told him his struggle was useless. Creed's mind was hard and cold; the man got off on hurting him. Creed's right hand fondled his ass, cupping and pinching it, while the bastard used his left hand to keep him pressed against the wall.

 

"Ya got a nice ass, bitch. Took me a while to figure out why Sinister wanted ya 'round, but then I hacked his computer and there it was, all the information he gathered on ya, boy. So ya sold yer ass on Bourbon Street? Pity I wasn't in New Orleans at the time, but we can rectify that mistake now. Why should Sinister be the only one to stretch that tight little hole?" He pushed his leg between Remy's thighs, forcing the younger man's legs apart.

 

"Non, please don'... non!" Too weak to defend himself, Remy tried to think of a way to distract Creed. But he wasn't thinking logically and painful memories of Hugo flipping him on his stomach rendered him paralyzed. It was happening all over again!

 

Creed used his claws to slash Remy's sweat bottoms in two. Greedily, he growled, seeing the luscious mounds of flesh and he slid his fingers down the cleft, searching for the tight ring.

 

"Don'! Lem...m-me g-go!" Remy stuttered, panted and bucked, but Creed's hold tightened and he realized he was in no condition to fight off the bastard. "Not 'gain... please, not 'gain!"

 

Creed lavished his index finger with saliva and was about to part Remy's asscheeks when an explosion impacted against his chest, causing him to fall on his butt. "What the hell?"

 

Sinister stalked closer. "Don't you ever lay your dirty hands on my son again or I will kill you, Creed! Remy's off limits to you!" Another energy blast left Sinister's right hand and hit Creed, who had managed to stagger back to his feet. 

 

The blast threw Creed against the wall and his eyes glowed with rage. "Yer son?" Creed laughed, amused. "Yer son ain't nothin' but a bitch, who likes to take it up the ass!"

 

Remy stared at the unfolding scene; Sinister advanced on Creed, his hands glowing with energy. Creed flashed his claws, but Sinister only laughed at that. Suddenly, Creed froze and a horrified expression appeared on his face.

 

"What are ya doin'?" Creed whispered, barely audible.

"I'm a telepath... a very strong telepath," Sinister said, definitely enjoying Creed's terror. "You slashed Remy open. You went against my orders! I told you to eradicate the Morlocks but to bring Remy to me! You tried to kill him..." Sinister cocked his head and suddenly Creed faced his own claws as they dug into his flesh.

 

"You’ll undoubtedly heal... consider yourself lucky that I didn't kill you." He needed Creed for his plans and to lead the Marauders. While Creed was squirming on the floor, Sinister looked at his son. "Get to your feet."

 

Shakily, Remy managed to stand unaided. He shivered, hearing Creed's groans of pain as his claws slashed open his ribcage.

 

"Why did you let him push you around?" Sinister towered over his son. "You can take him out with a single thought!"

 

Remy's dazed eyes revealed his disbelief. "Wit' a t'ought?" What was Sinister talking about? Right now he was too weak to even charge a card!

 

"You can't let them push you around like that. You're my son..." Sinister paused briefly and gestured Remy to return to his room. Following his son, he mumbled, "You have no idea just how strong you are."

 

Remy heard the words and looked at Sinister over his shoulder. "I don' understand." Sinister closed the door behind him and he slipped into the new sweat bottoms Sinister handed him. "Can' kill wit' t'oughts, me." He settled down in the bed and pulled the blankets up to his chin. "Why? Why do dey 'ways pick on me?"

 

"Because you make it easy for them," Sinister said thoughtfully. "Did it ever occur to you to fight him off? No, you surrendered, submitted."

 

"I tried fightin' him off!" Remy exploded. "I tried fightin' him and de ot'ers, but I don' stand a chance 'gainst dem!" His hands changed into fists beneath the mittens and he swallowed convulsively, lost for words. Never wanted to suck dem off, never wanted to be raped... Mon Dieu! I didn' want it!

 

Sinister nodded his head. "You have to realize that you can fight them off. You're no longer a nine year old roaming the streets. You have ways to defend yourself. As a telepath and empath you can influence their minds... and your kinetic charge... one day you'll learn that your telepathy can guide your charges..."

 

"I don' wanna stay here. I'm strong 'nough to leave." Stubbornly, Remy stared into Sinister's eyes. "I can walk on my own and I'm feelin' betta."

 

"No." Sinister shook his head. "I won't let you leave as long as you're suffering from the after effects of hypothermia and frostbite. Once you can take care of yourself you can leave. For now I order you to stay inside this room. Creed will want to get even with you."

 

"Why did you defend me?" Remy lowered his eyes, confused, and too afraid to hope Sinister actually cared.

 

"Creed was attacking my property... and he deserved it to be put in his place." Sinister left the room, closing the door behind him. Hopefully, Creed had learned his lesson.

 

Sinister's parting words hit Remy hard. His property... I'm his property and dat's it... He t'inks I belon' to him. Mon Dieu, I'll never be free of him. But in a few days he would leave this place and head for New York and eventually Westchester. In the meantime he would stay inside his room, no longer venturing out. He couldn't take the risk of running into a very pissed off Creed.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter 2

New York

 

"I'm bien to leave! Don' need to be locked up here, me! You promised to let me go when I could take care of m'self. Why are you breakin' your word?" Remy banged a fist into the wall. One week after Sinister had rescued him from certain death, the last after effects of hypothermia and frostbite had disappeared. The only thing that worried him was his nightmares. When had he been able to sleep the entire night through without thrashing awake? And now Sinister didn't want to let him go!

 

Sinister studied Remy carefully. His son had almost made a full recovery. Almost. His fingers were still stiff and he had suggested physical therapy for a while, which Remy had refused. "I don't feel comfortable letting you leave at this point."

 

Remy raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

 

"Physically you’ve healed, yes, but emotionally? You're an empath, Remy, and keeping everything inside won't work."

 

"I'll be de judge of dat!" Remy straightened out his armor, which he had put on that morning. For hours he had paced his room, eagerly awaiting Sinister's return. "Lemme go!"

 

Sinister cocked his head. "I won't stop you from leaving," he said, and turned away from Remy, heading for the door. "But ask yourself this... how long before you suffer another emotional breakdown? You can't continue like this."

 

Anger made Remy's eyes glow a fiery red. "I know I messed up! I screwed up my life, me. Don' need you to remind me of dat!"

 

"I just want to help," Sinister said, while opening the door. What? What did I say? I want to help? When did that happen? His bloody empathy is ruining my plans.

 

"Can take care of m'self, me, have 'ways done dat. Don' need you to protect me! Remy LeBeau takes care of himself." He didn't know where the anger was coming from. Maybe he was feeling claustrophobic, not thinking rationally, but he needed to get out of here.

 

Sinister looked over his shoulder, saw the rage in Remy's eyes and wondered as well where the anger was coming from. Focusing his powers, he created a tesseract in the center of Remy's room. "Where do you want to go?"

 

"New York City," Remy said determinedly. He would visit Benjamin and Dave's grave before moving on to Westchester. Taking a step toward the tesseract, he involuntarily halted as Sinister raised his hand.

 

"Remember, you're strong. Don't let them push you around. If they don't want you in Westchester, leave." During the last few days he had tried talking some sense into Remy, to show him why people took advantage of him. "Don't act vulnerable. Don't let guilt consume you." It was quite a remarkable speech for him, emotional and full of compassion. Bloody empathy...

 

Remy's empathy picked up on something... was it an emotion or was he imagining things? Sinister didn't have feelings! Mais why does he seem concerned 'bout me? Ah, oui, he wants me 'live 'cause of my DNA... it's all a charade.

 

Sinister watched Remy step into the tesseract and a minute later his son was gone. "It's such a damn pity," he mused aloud. "You could have been the strongest one, strong enough to take out the likes of Apocalypse, but Jean-Luc LeBeau had to steal you from the hospital." The last echoes of Remy's empathy were fading away as he walked down the corridor. It was time to return to his research.

 

///

 

Remy barely made it to his penthouse, which had been kept in a tidy state during his absence. He closed the door behind him and dragged himself over to the bed, where he collapsed. Maybe Sinister had been right and he should have rested longer, but he had craved his freedom. After shedding his coat, armor and shoes, he slipped beneath the sheets. He felt drained and needed rest. Later on, he would visit Benjamin and Dave's grave.

///

He woke up ten hours later. The sun had long since risen again and yet a weak crescent moon still fought the intruder. It was a cold and windy day.

 

Remy stretched, yawned and sat upright. His hands rested in his lap. He was gaining more control and feeling in his fingers, but sometimes they felt paralyzed and failed him. His career as a Guild thief hung in the balance and he could only hope that his body would heal itself. Sinister had done his best to repair the damage the frostbite had done, but even Sinister's knowledge and means had their limits.

 

A long, hot, shower, that was what he needed and he shuffled into the bathroom, not bothering to lift his feet for the floor. As he stepped beneath the warm spray, his thoughts involuntarily drifted off to that day when his charging power had first manifested. He had been convinced that he was being punished for touching himself, but later, he had understood. Mattie and Jean-Luc had sat him down and had talked him through it.

 

After shutting down the water, he stepped out of the shower cabin and wrapped warm towels around his hair and body. Shivering from the cold, he slipped into a bathrobe and walked into the living area to switch on the TV. He needed some background noise to keep his thoughts from running in circles.

 

Sinister had kept his word, something which absolutely stunned him. He had never expected Sinister to let him go and yet here he was, back in New York. Anot'er chance... anot'er chance to make a dreadful mistake.

 

Remy opened the closet and selected a pair of black trousers, a black shirt, black boots and a long black coat. It only seemed fitting to wear black when visiting Benjamin and Dave's grave. Before he got dressed he quickly made a sandwich and some coffee and then slipped into the clothes.

 

Looking in the mirror, he shivered at the sight of black circles under his eyes. He had lost weight this last week and he needed to start working out again. If only my hands stopped givin' out on me!

 

Remy pulled the coat close to his body and left the penthouse.

 

///

 

Remy stood in front of the Guardian Angel Church and wasn't sure he should go inside. This was where Benjamin and Dave's memorial service had been held and they were buried in the church's cemetery, which he would visit in a few moments. I should go inside and light some candles... He wasn't particularly religious, but lighting a few candles couldn't hurt.

 

After making sure that his dark glasses were in place, he ventured inside. He paid for the candles, lit them and said a private prayer for his friends while staring at the sea of candles in front of him. Mon Dieu, don' know why I'm prayin', don' even believe in you, mais... Benjamin and Dave... I loved dem. Dey'd become my family and I'm here jus' in case dere's a heaven or a hell. Please take very good care of dem, mon Dieu.

 

The hairs at the back of his neck stood rigid, feeling someone's eyes on him. Looking about, he quickly discovered the priest that was watching him. Merde, he resembles de Antiquary! Remy fled the church and headed for the cemetery to pay his friends his last respects.

 

///

 

Remy quickly hid behind a tree, seeing that he wasn't the only one visiting their grave. Mon Dieu, it's Mike! He was tempted to reach out empathically and to make sure Mike was doing fine, but he froze, finding that a young man was walking up to Mike. The blond haired man wrapped an arm around Mike's waist and held him close.

 

A lover... Mike had found a lover. He should be happy for his friend, but couldn't help feeling jealous and lonely as well. When he had left Mike, he had decided not to fight for their love, running away like he always did and now he was confronted with the consequences of his actions. Mike had a lover.

 

Carefully shielding his presence, Remy probed Mike's emotions and involuntarily he bit his lip, encountering nothing but affection and love for the other man. He was even picking up on a name... Daniel... his lover's name's Daniel? Soundlessly, he sneaked closer, once more using his thieving skills. When he was within hearing range, he stopped, hiding behind a mausoleum.

 

"Mike? Shouldn't we go now? We've been here over an hour. The grave is well taken care of and you placed the lilies on their grave." Daniel looked at Mike pleadingly. "Let move back to the church, love..."

 

"One more minute," Mike said, hoarsely. "I never got the chance to say good-bye and every time we come here it takes me a while to get over the guilt. I should have been there when it happened."

 

"Mike, don't do this to yourself. The killer murdered them and then set the house on fire. There was nothing you could do."

 

Mike listlessly nodded his head. "You're right. Let's go back home and warm up with some hot coffee. It's chilly today." Mike enfolded his lover in an embrace and slowly they walked away from the grave.

 

Remy waited until they had left the cemetery before stepping away from his hiding place. Mon Dieu, it really was Mike... And he was still wearing the diamond stud he had left that morning. It had shimmered in the sunlight.

 

Lost, anot'er lost chance, lost l’amour. I should have stayed and fought Julien. The echo of Mike's mind was completely gone now and he knew better than to go after him. Mike had found love and he had no right to ruin everything for Mike. Will try to be happy dat you found l'amour. Daniel seemed bien, didn' feel anyt'in' evil in his mind. Hope you'll be happy, mes amis.

 

Standing in front of the grave, tears stung his eyes. Benjamin and Dave had been buried together, in one grave. Although he hadn't been close during the funeral, he had asked his lawyer to report every detail to him. When his lawyer had approached Benjamin's mother and Dave's family because an anonymous benefactor wanted to place a statue of a guardian angel near the grave, they had been curious, but in the end, they had agreed.

 

Remy stared into the granite eyes of a large guardian angel, which was watching over the grave. It had been his parting gift, as he had been unable to attend the funeral himself. At the time, the police had still been looking for Benjamin and Dave's houseguest.

 

 

The guardian angel, made from dark granite, silently watched over the grave. He was holding a sword, ready to strike out if necessary. The large, dark wings hovered protectively over the grave, making sure no vandals approached. It was an impressive angel and Remy smiled, pleased that this guardian angel was keeping an eye on his friends.

 

"Mon ange, please keep dem safe. Eart' never saw two kinder souls. Dey truly loved each ot'er and cared 'bout de less fortunate, dey even took me in and how did fate repay dem? Julien killed dem. All I can do now is to ensure dey have a safe and peaceful restin' place. And mon Dieu, in case you ain' too busy, look after Mike and his lover as well. Would love to see dem grow old toget'er, me." Remy walked toward the angel and rested his hand on the sword. "Keep dem safe."

 

"Remy? What are you doin' here, mon fils? A cemetery? Whose deat' are you mournin'?"

 

"Pop...p-pa?" Remy turned around, his eyes big in disbelief. Jean-Luc LeBeau was walking toward him, already extending his arms, inviting him into the embrace. He didn't hesitate and flung himself at Jean-Luc. "What are you doin' here? How did you find me?" Through his tears, he managed to smile at Jean-Luc.

 

Jean-Luc's gaze shifted from Remy's face to the names on the tombstone. "Benjamin and Dave... why don' you tell me 'bout dem?"

 

Remy finally managed to calm down, but he still had difficulty believing Jean-Luc was really here. He let Jean-Luc guide him to a bench where they sat down. "Dey took me in. I was part of deir family for ten days and den Julien killed dem."

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head, and pulled Remy's hand into his lap, gently rubbing the knuckles. "And now you blame yourself for deir deat's?"

 

"Oui! I should never have said oui when dey asked me to move in wit' dem! Knew I was trouble, me. Should have known betta!" Remy's tone turned frantic and he almost pulled away his hand, remembering Jean-Luc had stolen him from the hospital when he had been a baby. Could he trust Jean-Luc? He had to, or else everything was lost.

 

"Did you know Julien was watchin' you?"

 

"Non, dat never occurred to me." Remy grew alert, realizing that if Jean-Luc continued to question him, he might have to tell the Patriarch about the Morlock massacre.

 

"Den why are you guilty of deir deat's?" Jean-Luc smiled gently and squeezed Remy's hand. "Mattie told me dat your empathy would cloud your vision. Listen to me, petit. Julien killed dem, not you, never you! It wasn' your fault!"

 

Baffled, Remy stared at Jean-Luc. "Mais Poppa... I got ot'er people killed as well."

 

But Jean-Luc shook his head. "Mon fils, you ain' a killer. You can' kill in cold blood, self-defense maybe, mais you'd never willingly take a life. Stop takin' de blame for somet'in' you didn' do, Remy. Ever since you were born people have been tryin' to ruin your life, don' let dem. We beat de Antiquary and we can beat de ot'ers as well, mais you've got to believe in yourself."

 

"I don' know," Remy whispered. Confused, he realized that he wasn't able to read Jean-Luc's emotions. Was Jean-Luc shutting him out? Did he no longer trust him? "Ai..." He yelped as unexpectedly Jean-Luc's emotions washed over him. Jean-Luc must have felt his probing and had opened his shields. "Too much, poppa, too much."

 

Sinister had shown him how to strengthen his shields, but up until now Remy had been hesitant to put his newly acquired knowledge into practice. Not having a choice any longer, he erected heavy walls, pushing Jean-Luc's emotions back into the Cajun's mind. "Sorry, poppa, mais I'm no longer used to..."

 

Blinking his eyes, he looked about. "Poppa, where are you?" He was sitting all alone on the bench! Where was Jean-Luc? The Cajun had been here just a minute ago! Or was he growing delusional? "Poppa? Are you here? Poppa?"

 

"Let go of de guilt, mon fils and be de best you can. Make me proud."

 

Remy jumped to his feet, but couldn't pinpoint Jean-Luc's location. "Poppa? I'll make you proud, promise, me..." He even managed a grin; Jean-Luc had vanished on him before. The Patriarch of the New Orleans Thieves' Guild loved to put on a show. "Merci for talkin' to me, poppa."

 

"You're welcome, Remy," came the voice, from further away this time. "Have to go, petit, mais don' forget your promise; let go of de guilt."

 

"I'll try, poppa. Will try, me." Remy wiped away the solitary tear that still clung to his face and returned to Benjamin and Dave's grave. "I know what you tried to teach me, mes amis, and I'll do my best to find true amour. I'll stop playin' games wit' de ladies and look my demons in de eyes, mais it won' be a pretty sight. Pray for me, Benjamin... Dave."

 

After meeting the angel's granite eyes one last time, he turned away from the grave. Pulling his coat close to his body, he decided to head for Westchester in the morning. Should he warn the X-Men that he was still alive? Non, let them face their own demon as well. They had left him in Antarctica; they didn't deserve a warning.

 

///

 

He quickly increased the distance between himself and Remy. Remy's empathy had almost upset his plans, but he had saved the situation by reflecting the younger man's emotions back at him.

 

Jean-Luc LeBeau's features faded and his metal armor reappeared. Sinister opened a tesseract, still reflecting on the conversation he had just had with his son. Remy had firmly believed he was Jean-Luc LeBeau, just as he had intended him to. Remy wouldn't follow any advice given to him by Sinister, but he would honor Jean-Luc's advice, so he had morphed into the Cajun thief.

 

It had been his intention to make Remy stronger, more confident before he headed for Westchester, though he really didn't understand why his son wanted to return to those traitors, who had left him in Antarctica! If it hadn't been for his spies, he might never have learned that Remy was about to freeze to death!

 

Hopefully, Remy would keep his shields up and work on fortifying them. Stepping forward, the tesseract welcomed him and transported him back to his lab.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter 3

Westchester

 

A week had passed since Remy had spoken with Jean-Luc in the cemetery and he had taken the Patriarch's advice to heart. He was trying to let go of the guilt. Deep down inside his heart he knew he wasn't to blame for either the deaths of his friends or the Morlocks, but his head was telling him differently and convincing himself he was just another victim was a constant struggle.

 

Ain' it strange... in a certain way Sinister and poppa said de same t'ing. I understand why poppa said it, 'cause he wants to help me, mais Sinister? Must have been my empat'y affectin' him, it's de only t'in' I can come up wit'. Mais why want me stron'? Mais oui, it ain' like I'll ever be a t'reat to Sinister and he wants me 'live, wants me 'live for my DNA, told me so. Dis ain' workin', Remy. You're drivin' up to de mansion's gates and you still don' know what to do or to say. Pat'tic...

 

He was driving a brown jeep up to the gate, fully aware that several security cameras were locking onto the vehicle. It wouldn't take the X-Man on monitor duty long to figure out his identity. Mais will dey lemme in or send me' way 'gain? Sinister and poppa said not to stay if dey don' want me... mais where to go? I can hide in one of poppa's safe houses, go back to bein' a Guild Thief, mais I want so much more... I want a home.

 

Reaching the gate, he stared at the closed entrance. The doors were firmly shut. Looking to his right, he stared straight into the lens of the camera. He took a deep breath and cocked his head. "Salut, mes amis, Gambit's back."

 

///

 

"Impossible!" Jean stared in disbelief at the monitors. She hadn't recognized the jeep, but she definitely recognized that voice. "Remy?" She jumped to her feet; calling Scott and the professor telepathically, telling them she was allowing Remy inside and hurrying down to meet him.

 

Jean, wait! Scott cursed; he was in the middle of a training sequence in the Danger Room when he received her thoughts. "Logan, shut down the program!" He terminated another imaginary Brood soldier and headed for the exit. Jean, wait, are you sure it's Gambit?

 

I'm sure, Jean replied, not slowing down one bit while running toward the driveway where Remy's car was pulling up. Feeling the professor's presence and interest, she addressed him. Sir, I think this might get ugly. Rogue, Betsy, Warren and Storm are all here and I don't know how they'll react to finding him here.

 

I'm on my way already, Charles informed them. Try to keep Remy near the jeep. Scott, join us there. Logan, find Bobby and divert the others from Remy's arrival.

 

Logan shook his head. "Come on, Ice Cube, we gotta make sure Gumbo doesn't get ripped apart." During the last few weeks two camps had formed. One group consisted of Rogue, Joseph, Betsy, Warren and Storm. Whenever Remy's name was brought up, they seemed content that the Cajun had been left behind in Antarctica. Logan had been shocked to find out that even his old friend Storm agreed with Rogue. He had always thought that Storm considered Remy her kid brother, but things had changed.

 

The other camp, consisting of the professor, Scott, Jean, Bobby, Hank and himself, felt that a great wrong had been committed when the team hadn't gone back to check on Remy. Jean and Scott had even flown back to the Citadel, but had been shocked to find it empty. Remy had vanished, without a single trace.

 

Bobby shifted from ice form to normal and fell into step beside Logan. "How do you plan on distracting them?"

 

"We'll come up with somethin', bub."

 

///

 

Although his shields were at maximum, Remy still felt the commotion his arrival had caused. Xavier, Jean and Scott hurried toward him and he mentally prepared himself for their rejection. After all, he hadn't announced his visit and they had been convinced that he was dead. Forcing himself not to reach out with his empathy, he tried to read the expressions on their faces, but that proved harder than expected. Scott's face revealed no emotion at all and the professor appeared calm and in control as always. Only Jean's face was an open book and he felt her warmth and affection as it gently battered against his shields.

 

Jean was the first to reach him and although he knew she was glad to see him, her hug still surprised him. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and pulled him close.

 

"Remy, we... how did you survive?" Jean smiled reassuringly, sensing how hard coming home was on him. "I missed you, Cajun, missed your pranks, chatter and flattery."

 

"Jean..." Remy couldn't manage any more words, as his emotions got the better of him. Jean's feelings were incredibly strong and urging him to lower his shields, which he did involuntarily. Mon Dieu, she's really glad to see me!

 

Of course I am! Jean suddenly realized what was happening. Remy? You’ve never allowed me in your mind like this before. Jean cringed, as Remy's defenses slammed into place again, but for a moment, she had seen the shadows that made his life miserable. Too little time... too little information!

 

Jean? I'd like to talk to Gambit as well. Amused, Charles let his hoverchair move towards Remy until he could rest a hand on the young man's shoulder. He doesn't look healthy; dark circles under his eyes, too pale, too thin... but he feels so strong! I never felt his telepathic talent before... and his shields, my God, how did he get them this strong?

 

"M'sieur," Remy whispered, respectfully. He felt relieved as Jean let him go. Her embrace had felt like a death-grip, like she had been afraid he would disappear the moment she let go. His gaze shifted from Jean to the professor and he relaxed slightly, seeing the acceptance in Charles' eyes. Charles wanted him here, wouldn't tell him to leave. "Hope me comin' back doesn' create problems?"

 

"We'll deal with any problems," Charles assured him. "Jean's right. We missed you."

 

Remy finally managed a weak smile. "Merci, m'sieur, wasn' sure I was welcome, me..."

 

So far, he had successfully managed to avoid Scott's gaze and he kept his eyes stubbornly locked on either Charles or Jean. Sinister had been right. Emotionally, he was a disaster waiting to happen and no matter how strong his defenses were he would always be prone to emotional breakdowns.

 

"It's a damn pity that you doubted you'd be welcome," Scott remarked, trying to catch Remy's elusive gaze. "I'm sorry that I wasn't at this mockery of a trial, but... you didn't deserve any of it."

 

Remy's breath hitched. Had Scott really said that? Why had he doubted Jean and Scott wanted him here? Hadn't they been to Antarctica to check on him? Mon Dieu, he was so tempted to ask them why they had visited the Citadel, but he couldn't. "I'm glad to hear I'm welcome, me," he whispered, still avoiding looking at Scott's visor. It was distressing that he could never see Scott's eyes and he was too afraid to use his empathy to find out if Scott was sincere.

 

"I've got to be honest with you, though," Scott said, while exchanging a glance with the professor. "There are some team members that won't be thrilled to see you."

 

"I expected dat..." Remy felt at a loss. Had he done the right thing by coming here or...?

 

"Ah can't believe Swamp rat's back!" Rogue was the first to leave the mansion, quickly followed by Betsy and Warren.

 

Scott caught the helpless look on Bobby's face. Bobby had done his best to distract them. "It's okay, Bobby," he whispered softly and stepped up closer to Remy, who oddly enough backed a step away from him. Why? Why is he so eager to maintain this distance? It had been a rhetorical question, but it got answered anyway.

 

Maybe he's afraid to get hurt again? He trusted us once and we didn't come through, Jean sent. She was monitoring Remy's reactions as well and found them alarming. The shields, his defenses were incredibly strong and yet a compelling vulnerability clung to Remy that urged her to protect him.

 

"Yes, he's alive, but not thanks to you, Rogue." Scott moved to stand in front of Remy, effectively blocking Rogue's path. "You know how I feel about you leaving him."

 

"Come on, Slim!" Warren interjected. "The thief deserved it! He gathered the Marauders and led them into the tunnels!"

 

"But he also told us that he regrets ever making such a mistake," Hank pointed out. He had been working on his research when Bobby had warned him that Remy had returned and he had left his lab at once.

 

"And that makes it all right?" Rogue shook her head. "Gumbo should have told us when he joined the team!"

 

"Then why don't ya tell us what ya did 'fore ya joined the X-Men?" Logan countered.

 

Charles' face contorted. He hated seeing them fight like this, they were supposed to be a family! "Remy will stay," he announced, ignoring Rogue and Warren's anger. "Remy, I suggest you stay at the boathouse for now." But Charles sent Scott, Jean and Remy a slight different message. That way everyone will get a chance to heal. We have to work this out before we can function as a team again. And Remy? Don't take this the wrong way, but you need to gain some weight and to start working out. I'll put you on the inactive list until you pass Henry's medical exams. I'm not punishing you by sending you to the boathouse, Remy... I just want you to recover completely before you go on another mission.

 

But Jean saw Remy flinch. Remy, the professor is being honest. This isn't meant as punishment.

 

Remy bit his bottom lip, wishing he could believe them. "Bien, I'll stay at de boathouse for now."

 

"Jean, why don't you help Remy settle in?" Scott smiled thankfully, as Jean nodded her head. He had to straighten out this situation; he had to find a way for them to be a family again.

 

///

 

"It's been so long since Scott and I stayed here... I'd forgotten how quiet it is." Jean finished restocking the food supplies and joined Remy in the living room where he was building a fire. "Remy, can we talk?" She had to be tactful now or he would cut off the conversation before it really started.

 

"Mais oui, chère, we can talk." Remy collapsed onto the couch and stared at the burning wood. This wasn't the homecoming he had planned.

 

Jean sat down beside him and tried to read the expression in his red on black eyes, but damn, Remy was always so hard to read! "Your shields were down... only a fraction of a second, but I saw some things," she said honestly. Remy's head jerked back and she felt his fear. "I'm not going to tell anyone, but maybe you need someone to talk to?"

 

"What did you see, Jean?" Non, this couldn't be happening! What had she seen? What dark secrets did she know?

 

"I saw Sinister..." Jean refused to let go of his eyes, keeping them prisoner. "He rescued you in Antarctica, didn't he?"

 

That was it? Remy forced himself not to sigh relieved. "Oui, he helped me."

 

"Remy... why are your shields this strong?" Jean raised her hand to place it over his, but Remy jerked his hand back and she didn't try again. "I always suspected you were a telepath... especially after you threw Betsy out of your mind; which she fully deserved as far as I'm concerned by the way... care to tell me the truth?"

 

"You know 'ready, don' you?" Remy shrugged his shoulders. Everything was falling apart!

 

"You're an empath as well as a telepath, aren't you? Remy, do you know how special it is to have that many gifts?"

 

"Special?" Remy shook his head. "More like a curse."

 

Jean licked her lips; the hardest part was yet to come. "Remy, do you trust me?" Remy's eyes widened and she sensed his rising panic. "Do you?" She hated pushing him, but she didn't have a choice. She had to do this now.

 

"I don' know chère... I t'ought I did..." Feeling lost, he stopped fighting her. "Everyt'in' changed after Antarctica. Rogue left me, de X-Men didn' come back and left me dere to die... mebbe I deserved it... did I?"

 

"No, you didn't deserve being left there by Rogue. When we found out what she had done, we were furious. Scott even wanted her off the team. She's now on the inactive list as well. Scott no longer trusts her..."

 

"Never t'ought Cyke would pick my side..." Remy whispered surprised.

 

Jean smiled and finally managed to pin his right hand with hers. "I know that Scott sometimes seems arrogant, like he doesn't care, or as Logan once phrased it, like he has a rod up his ass, but he does care. Scott's a good man. He's just really bad at showing his feelings." Remy's eyes glowed softly and she gently squeezed his hand. "You trust me, don't you?"

 

"Oui, I guess so..." Remy suddenly realized that she had gotten hold of his hand and wondered why she was this close. And why are we talkin' 'bout Scott? Mon Dieu, she didn' see... doesn' know... Ai, my shields were down... non, she can' know...

 

"You have been in love with him for all these years and you hid it perfectly. I never suspected anything," Jean said gently, rubbing his knuckles. "You've got good taste in men."

 

Remy's eyes bulged. "You know..." He had better pack his stuff again and leave. He couldn't stay here if she knew the truth!

 

"Too bad he's already married, huh?" Jean squeezed his hand again, trying to reassure him. "Thanks for never making a move on him... You must have been tempted."

 

"Non, not really," Remy whispered, embarrassed. "Scott loves you, only you. I fought dat crush..."

 

"And turned to Rogue instead... you know that was a dumb thing to do?" Jean felt his shields fluctuate again and caught a small glimpse of all the restraint he had practiced these years. "You pursued Rogue because she was safe. You couldn't touch her and your empathy told you that she didn't want to go all the way either. It was a perfect distraction, Remy. Pretending to love Rogue allowed you to mask your true feelings, but it backfired, didn't it?"

 

"Tried to love her, me," Remy objected. "She reminded me of myself. My powers were outta control once and I wanted someone to help me. I wanted to be dat someone for Rogue. I didn' use her!"

 

"I never said you did," Jean quickly reassured him. "Remy, look me in the eyes."

 

Remy obeyed reluctantly. "Are you tellin' me to leave?"

 

"No, I want you to stay." Jean wished she knew what was going on in his head. "Actually, Scott should be flattered that you're attracted to him. I never thought I would say this, but I think you'd be good for him..." Jean raised her left hand and caressed his cheek. Staring deeply into his eyes, she nodded her head. "I hope you'll find your Mister Right when the time comes."

 

"Mais it won' be Scott. Don' worry, chère, I won' try a t'ing. Know he loves you, me... Value your friendship so much..."

 

Jean smiled. "I asked you whether you trusted me and you said yes. Remy, I trust you too." She grinned impishly. "At least now I have someone to discuss men with!"

 

"What 'bout Bobby?"

 

Jean laughed warmly. "But Bobby has a completely different taste in men! I never find his 'hunks' attractive at all. Now we can talk dirty behind Scott's back."

 

Remy smiled hesitantly; still afraid to believe she wasn't mad at him. "You're a great lady, chère..."

 

"Thank you, Remy," Jean said pleased and grinned. "I love you too."

 

///

 

"Jean, chère, don' you t'ink dat's too much soup for jus' de two of us?" She had made enough to feed the whole team!

 

Jean tasted the soup, making sure it tasted just right. "No, I don't think so, Remy. Didn't I tell you that you've got company for dinner?"

 

"You're gonna eat all dat?" Remy raised an amused eyebrow, glad their verbal banter was back to normal. Especially now that she knew about his crush on her husband.

 

"No, dummy, Hank, Bobby and Scott are joining us for dinner. The professor excuses himself. He really would have liked to have dinner with you as well, but he's still busy trying to settle down Rogue and Warren."

 

Remy lowered his eyes. "Team's really divided, non?"

 

"Yes," Jean admitted at once. "But it isn't about you, not really..." Seeing Remy's puzzled expression she tried to explain. "A number of things went wrong and were never dealt with. Hank was switched with the Dark Beast and we found out too late. The professor turned into Onslaught and we're still trying to learn to trust him again. Let's not even mention Rogue deserting you or Logan going berserk on Betsy. He claims she smells of evil shadows..."

 

"So you're sayin' dis ain' 'bout me?" Remy had a hard time believing that. He carried the soup over to the kitchen table while Jean set out the bowls and utensils.

 

"We have been drifting apart as a team for some time now. I'm glad you're back; it finally allows us to address the fact that Rogue left you and that no one got you out." A thoughtful expression appeared in her eyes. "I'm grateful Sinister saved your life."

 

Remy lowered his eyes and stared at the floor. Hopefully Sinister rescuing him was all Jean had seen in his mind when it came down to Sinister. A knock on the door pulled him from his musings and Jean got up to open the door. His empathy, although he tried to repress it, easily picked up on their guests.

 

Bobby entered first and immediately headed toward the kitchen table, appreciatively taking in the aroma of the soup. "Gambit, it's good to have you back, but man, I never expected you to show up like that!" Bobby sat down and smiled.

 

Hank hesitated to step inside, but a gentle push from Scott forced him across the threshold. "Remy..."

 

Remy's head jerked back, unable to block Hank's fierce emotions. "Henri?" Surprised at Hank's strong feelings, he rose from his chair and walked toward him. "Oui?" He didn't know what Hank's next move would be, but it was obvious that Hank needed to say something.

 

"Remy, I'm so terribly sorry... I owe you an apology, an explanation, but..." Hank was at a loss for words.

 

"Mon ami?" Remy's empathy sensed Hank's need for contact and he placed his hand on the blue fur. "Sorry 'bout what? You didn' do anyt'in' wrong. What's dere to be sorry for?" Baffled, he wondered about the deep guilt in Hank's mind.

 

"I didn't come back for you." Hank shook his head in disbelief, still trying to understand why he hadn't told them to turn the Blackbird around. "I can't justify my behavior because it was wrong. Remy, I don't know whether you'll ever be able to trust me again to watch your back, but I truly regret abandoning you in your hour of need and I vow I'll never do it again." Hesitantly, unsure if his gesture would be welcome, he extended his right hand.

 

"Mais, mon ami..." Remy stuttered. A moment ago the words had been easy, but now they refused to come back to him. The trut', you owe him de trut'. Remy took a deep breath and plunged in. "Oui, hoped you'd come back for me, felt lonely when you didn'... hoped de X-Men would come back for one of deir one, mais I no longer was part of de team, oui? After several hours I realized you wouldn' come back for me and I gave up... don' ask me how I survived, can' tell you."

 

"I'll respect that," Scott said, quickly interjecting. "We're much too glad to have you back to dig for answers that are personal to you."

 

Pleasantly surprised, Remy looked at Scott. Once more he cursed the visor, wishing he could read the expression in Scott's eyes. He had to risk it all... why? He didn't know why, but suddenly this was important to him. "Cyke... you ever go back to de Citadel?"

 

Scott nodded his head. "Yes, we went back to see if... we could help and..."

 

"Or to bring your corpse back to Westchester to bury it honorably," Jean finished for Scott. "We couldn't stand the uncertainty."

 

"If only we had been there during the trial!" Scott's voice throbbed with barely repressed anger.

 

Hank cringed. I know he expected me to take control when everything fell apart, but I didn't rise to the challenge... I'm no leader...

 

Hank don't... Jean reached out to Hank and smiled reassuringly. You were injured, remember?

 

It's still my fault! Hank was about to leave again, but Remy's hand came to rest on his shoulder and kept him in place.

 

"It ain' your fault, mon ami." For one moment he had been tempted to use his empathy to comfort Hank, but he couldn't take the chance of being found out. It was bad enough Jean and the professor knew about his mental powers. And she also knows 'bout Sinister and... my crush on Scott... please, mon Dieu, don' let her tell Scott! He already felt shy in their presence now that his secret had partly been revealed.

 

Mon Dieu, meeting Scott for the first time was ingrained on his memory. His empathy hadn't been that strong back then and he hadn't even consciously used it on Scott, but... Scott's mind felt like Mike's... and it still does. A great sense of justice, friendship, honor and values guided Scott on his path. He understood perfectly why Jean had fallen for him.

 

He had heard others on the team remark that they found Scott dull and boring, even arrogant. But true leadership came from true understanding and Scott wasn't trying to be someone he wasn't. What you saw was what you got and he appreciated that. He hated people that played head games to get what they wanted.

 

Out of respect for Jean and his affection for both of them he had never made a move on Scott. Scott was a married man who obviously adored his wife. Jean was Scott's life, his reason for living and he wouldn't stand a chance trying to come between them. So he settled for being friends.

 

"Remy? Remy?" Amused, Bobby gently kicked Remy beneath the kitchen table. "If you're not eating that soup, I will."

 

How long had he been lost in memories? "Oh non, mon ami, dis soup's mine." Although he wasn't hungry he emptied the bowl, suddenly realizing Hank was studying him. Reading an echo of Hank's thoughts he shuddered. "Non, I ain' settin' foot in your lab, me... non."

 

Hank raised an eyebrow. He let the remark slide, wondering if Remy's telepathy had strengthened during his absence. The Cajun thief thought no one knew about his mental powers, but Remy couldn't fool him. He had done too many tests and physical exams to ignore the truth. He only hoped that Remy's shields had strengthened as well.

 

///

 

Charles pinched the bridge of his nose. He had managed to talk some sense into Warren. Betsy hadn't seemed to care what happened to Remy and Storm had been strangely quiet when he had informed her that Remy was back. Seeing Ororo this emotionless worried him. But Storm presents no danger, no real danger to Remy. Rogue however does.

 

When he had allowed her onto the team, he had hoped to repair the damage her powers had done to her. But he had deluded himself, blaming her powers for her crimes while he should have been looking at her character. After she had absorbed Miss Marvel, her true character had emerged. Rogue claimed she was a mix of several personalities, and that she was trying to deal with their presence in her mind, but he no longer believed her. It was time to stop blaming her out of control powers for her bad judgment. She had made the decision to leave Remy and now that the young Cajun was back, Rogue was panicking. There was no way of knowing what her next move might be.

 

Charles poured himself some strong coffee and inhaled the spicy fragrance. He was keeping track of her telepathically, sensing her rage. He would keep a close eye on her in order to prevent this situation from escalating further.

 

///

 

"Merci for de company, mes amis," Remy said honestly. Even Logan had joined them and they were only now leaving. It was close to midnight and he felt tired after his emotional return to the mansion.

 

He waved goodbye to them, then closed the door. Now that they were gone the boathouse was empty and silent. He switched on the TV, tuned in to a baseball game and got a cold beer from the fridge. Sipping his beer, he tried to concentrate on the game, but failed.

 

Dey want me here. Hank, Jean, Scott, Bobby, Logan... de professor want me here, mais de ot'ers don'. I still can' believe dey're divided like dis. X-Men used to be a team, a family. Actually, he felt relieved that Charles had suggested he stayed at the boathouse. This way their emotions weren't affecting him. He still felt rage at the edges of his mind, but he managed easily to block it out.

 

After switching off the TV again, he climbed the stairs to the bedroom and removed his clothes. Only wearing his boxers and a T-shirt, he slipped between the covers. The silence and loneliness suddenly crashed in on him and he wished Napoleon were here... he would cuddle the tomcat until he fell asleep. Maybe he should get himself a pet?

 

A 'whooshing' sound attracted his attention and his instincts kicked in. Someone was out there... just beneath his window. Should he focus his empathy to find out who it was? What if he got caught? Remy left the bed, slipped into a bathrobe and approached the window. Cold... ice... violence... His empathy had kicked in anyway, warning him of the menacing presence outside.

 

Remy uncovered his deck of cards from his pants, which he had placed over a chair, and was ready to charge them, when something Sinister had once said came back to him. You can kill with a single thought. You have no idea how strong you really are. What had Sinister been hinting at? And if it was true, shouldn't he be even more careful when using his mental powers?

 

After drawing in a deep breath, he opened the window. "I know it's you, Rogue." Her form appeared floating in front of the window and he held his breath, seeing the dark expression in her eyes. "I survived, chère."

 

"Don't call me that!" Rogue remained at a distance, watching Remy closely. "How did yuh survive?"

 

Remy remained alert, never dropping the cards. "Why did you leave me, Rogue? It jus' doesn' make sense. You committed crimes as well."

 

Rogue cocked her head. "Don't really know why Ah left yuh, Remy. Yuh know how hard control is for me. Ah don't know why Ah flew 'way."

 

Oui, blame it on your lack of control... mais it doesn' work, Rogue. Involuntarily, his mind went back to the time when his powers had gone berserk. "Rogue, I know how you feel, how frustrated you are dat you can' control your powers, mais you can' blame dem for desertin' me. My powers were outta control once too, mais... I still knew what I was doin'. I would never have willingly hurt anyone, mais you..."

 

Tears flowed down Rogue's face. "But Ah need yuh, Remy. Yuh helped me deal with this before... Yuh can' turn yur back on me. I need yuh."

 

"Non," Remy said softly. "You need someone to tell you it's bien to screw up 'cause your powers are outta control. Mais it no longer works dat way." Unable to repress his need to reach out empathically, he tried to touch her mind, but he was slammed back when she felt his probing. Panting softly, he looked her in the eyes. "You don' want true control, Rogue. You're a rebel at heart. Dis is who you truly are and you're happy bein' you... mais no one else is allowed to know."

 

Rogue had stopped crying and glared at him. "Yuh can't believe that, sugah! Of course Ah want control!"

 

Remy knew he was treading on dangerous grounds, but couldn't stop now. "Took me a while to figure t'ings out, chère, mais all it takes for you to gain control is to slap a Genoshan collar 'round your neck. I suggested dat once, remember?"

 

"Yeah, yuh did, swamp rat... 'cause you wanted to fuck me!"

 

Rogue's words hurt. "I would never 'fuck' you, chère. L'amour is so different from fuckin', don' you know dat? I do..." Dave and Benjamin had first shown him and later Mike had allowed him to experience making love. "Mais you don' know de difference."

 

"Joe makes love to me now," Rogue told him in a cold tone. "He doesn't need to collar me to make love to me!"

 

Tiredly, Remy nodded his head. "I hope de two of you will be happy. You'd betta treat him right, Rogue. I hope you don' try to kill him when he needs you most."

 

"Bastard!"

 

"It's de trut', Rogue, mais lookin' your demons in de eyes is always hard, non?" Remy shivered, finally noticing the night's cold. "Consider dis conversation over, me... Go back to Joe, Rogue." Remy began closing the window, but she reached out and stopped him.

 

"This ain't over yet, swamp rat."

 

"Rogue, dis ended when you left me on de ice." Calmly, he pushed away her hand and closed the window, knowing it wouldn't stop her if she really wanted to continue this. He returned to his bed, disrobed and slipped back between the sheets. The next few minutes he kept his empathy locked on her, sensing her anger and disbelief. Leave, Rogue. We're over. Merde, had he really sent that telepathically?

 

"Yur a liar and a traitor and Ah will keep my eye on yuh, Gambit!"

 

He sighed relieved when she finally flew away from the boathouse, knowing other confrontations would follow in the next few days. He tossed and turned the rest of the night, unable to get back to sleep.

 

///

 

"Rogue went to the boathouse last night," Charles informed Scott. It was still early and they were the only ones eating breakfast at this early hour. "Nothing happened," he added quickly, feeling Scott's distress. "But we need to monitor her closely."

 

Scott nodded his head once. "How are we going to reunite the team again, sir?"

 

"Wounds were inflicted and they need time to heal." Charles wished he knew the answer to Scott's question. "Don't put Remy on the active list yet. I'm not sure how Warren and Rogue will react in a hazardous situation while watching Remy's back."

 

"Remy seems weak..." Scott said in an unguarded moment.

 

"Oh, believe me, Remy isn't weak. He's very strong, though he has to work on his control. But he knows that. I think he'll greatly surprise us in the future. I sensed strength in him which I never felt before."

 

"I hope you're right, sir."

 

"By the way, Scott, how's Jean doing? I know she had a hard time when you found the Citadel empty."

 

"She's happy, sir, really happy to have him back." Scott smiled. Jean was happy and therefore he was happy as well. Sometimes life was so simply.

 

"Professor, Scott, we've got an emergency situation!" Warren stormed into the room, agitated and worried. "We just received an encoded message from Lilandra... she needs our help. She specifically asked for Jean's presence... she needs the Phoenix."

 

Scott's expression darkened. He had lost Jean to the Phoenix before and he feared the day would come when he would fail to reclaim her.

 

Charles sensed Scott's apprehension and turned to Warren. "Gather the team and that includes Rogue and Joe." He had a feeling Scott would need them on this mission. "Remy's staying with me," he clarified, seeing Warren and Scott's questioning expression. "Take everyone else with you, but Remy's staying here with me. Now get going!" Lilandra, the only woman he had ever truly loved, was in danger!

 

"Yes, sir!" Scott jumped to his feet and headed for the Blackbird, relying on Warren to gather the rest of the team.

 

Charles placed his napkin on the table and stared at the wall, recalling Lilandra's telepathic touch. Yes, something was wrong. Why hadn't he felt it before? But the X-Men would take care of the problem, as they always did. Steering his hoverchair toward the doorway, he left the mansion and headed for the boathouse to inform Remy.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Chapter 4

Xavier

 

Looking through the window, Charles found Remy sitting at the kitchen table, staring blindly into a mug filled with black coffee. The long auburn hair was a tangled mess and Remy's eyes were drooping shut again. It doesn't look like he got much sleep after Rogue left. If he really wanted to, he could access the security tapes and find out what their conversation had been about, but he didn't want to pry and preferred to have Remy tell him personally.

 

"Remy? Can I come inside?" Charles knocked on the door, giving Remy a moment to compose himself.

 

"Mais oui, m'sieur. What are you doin' here?" Remy quickly opened the door and walked the professor to the kitchen table. "Want some coffee, m'sieur?"

 

"Only if it's still hot," Charles teased.

 

Remy stared at his mug, and nodded his head. "Should stop t'inkin' dis much... 'ways gets me into trouble." Remy emptied his mug in the sink and poured them both some hot coffee. After carrying the mugs back to the table, he straddled his chair and avoided Charles' eyes. "Is dere anyt'in I can do for you?" he asked eventually, growing uncomfortable beneath Charles' studying gaze.

 

"I'm here to inform you that the entire team is away. Warren intercepted an encoded message from Lilandra. I don't know when they'll be back." Charles sipped his coffee and released a happy sigh. This hot, strong, black coffee was just what he needed right now. "I even sent Rogue and Joseph along."

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "Cyke will need all de help he can get."

 

"Very true..." Charles warmed his hand on the coffee mug, realizing how lost Remy looked. Was this vulnerability new or had it been there before and the young Cajun had just hidden it better?

 

"You must be worried. You love Lilandra, non? And now dere's rien you can do to help." Remy still avoided Charles' eyes, preferring to stare at his coffee. It was growing cold again.

 

Remy's remark surprised Charles. I should have known. He's an empath after all... he knows what I feel, knows my fears and my hopes... how did he manage to hide it all these years? "Yes, I'm worried, but I have faith in the team."

 

Remy nodded once. "Merci for tellin' me, m'sieur." He appreciated that Charles was telling him personally; it made him feel less left out, more part of the team. "I hope everyt'in' turns out bien, m'sieur." Startled, he felt his empathy reach out to make sure Charles was okay and not putting up a front. Seeing Charles' knowing eyes, he quickly fortified his shields and managed to pull his empathy back. "Sorry, m'sieur. Still learnin' to control it, me."

 

Charles smiled reassuringly. "I understand. I wish I had complete control over my powers as well, but complete control is just an illusion. Your mental powers have been growing stronger... what about your kinetic charging ability? Has it gotten stronger too?"

 

Remy shook his head; Sinister's image flashed in his mind. The scientist had removed the cells from his brain stem and he hoped the professor hadn't seen that particular image. Mais I'm keepin' secrets from him... 'gain. Wasn' dat what got me into dis mess in de first place?

 

"You can tell me, you know." Charles felt Remy's doubts, but hoped the young Cajun would confide in him. "Nothing you tell me will ever leave this room. Keeping everything inside doesn't work, Remy. It'll eat at you and eventually destroy you." Remy's thoughtful expression told him that the Cajun wanted to trust him, but Remy still feared to trust. "Why don't you take a shower, shave, and then join me in the living room?"

 

Remy was thankful for the time to think everything over. Maybe a shower would clear his head and help him reach a decision. "I'll join you in fifteen, m'sieur."

 

"Remy, it's okay to call me Charles," he said, grinning slightly.

 

"Even Jean and Scott call you 'sir," Remy pointed out.

 

"Let's try?" He wanted to cover some of the emotional distance between them.

 

"I'll try..." Remy barely suppressed the 'm'sieur' and climbed the stairs to the bathroom.

 

///

 

Charles used the little reprieve to put on some classic music and to make some Earl Gray. He carried the tea into the living room and put it on the coffee table. The sound of shuffling feet alerted him that Remy had returned. Remy's hair was still damp, but the dull expression had disappeared from his eyes. Taking it as a good sign that Remy had joined him, he gestured for the Cajun to sit down on the couch, offering him a cup of tea.

 

"Merci," Remy whispered, accepting the tea and sitting down opposite the hoverchair. He still hadn't made up his mind. First, Charles had to convince him that he was trustworthy.

 

"I apologize for not sitting you down earlier to have this conversation. I usually interview all new members of the team, but for some reason we never talked. Why do you think that is?"

Remy tensed. Charles had offered to talk when he had joined the team years ago, but he had elegantly maneuvered himself out of that confrontation. "I never let you," he admitted. "Didn' wanna talk."

 

"Why's that?" Charles smiled, pleased that Remy wasn't trying to avoid answering his questions.

 

"Too many secrets... t'ings I'm ashamed of." Remy startled, realizing he had decided to trust Charles with his past. Was he making another mistake or finally doing the right thing after all?

 

"Why don't you start with telling me one secret?" Charles suggested, almost holding his breath in anticipation of Remy's answer.

 

What secret was the easiest to admit to? Remy briefly closed his eyes. "Never told you I was an empat' and a telepat'."

 

"Why?" Charles was tempted to answer this question himself, but he knew how important it was that Remy spoke his mind. Because you didn't trust us?

 

"I never completely trusted you..."

 

"We never gave you a reason to trust us," Charles finished for him. "Is that changing now?"

 

"Mebbe," Remy said elusively.

 

"And your powers are still growing stronger?" Charles still marveled at Remy's defenses. "I can feel your strength, Remy. No matter how high your walls are, I can feel it."

 

Remy moistened his lips. Was it time to reveal another secret? A secret? Was it still a secret? He had hinted at it in Antarctica, but Charles hadn't been at the trial. "Powers went berserk, outta control."

 

"When?"

 

"Before I joined the team... 'most four, five years ago. I was scared I was gonna blow myself up... and take down innocents wit' me. Scalphunter found me like dat and offered me a cure."

 

"Sinister?" Charles held onto his calm. It was important that Remy got a chance to tell his story without being condemned for his choices.

 

"Sinister operated on me." Remy couldn't maintain eye contact any longer and stared at the wall. "Removed cells from my brain stem." Involuntarily, his right hand searched for the scar at the back of his neck. "Wanna know somet'in' funny?"

 

"Of course," Charles replied, sensing the fear in Remy's mind.

 

"Sinister said I could kill wit' a single t'ought... make a buildin' collapse jus' 'cause I wanted it." Remy flinched, and glanced at Charles. "Do you t'ink he was lyin'?"

 

"I don't know," Charles said, honestly. "Henry and I would have to run extensive tests on you to answer that question. Did Sinister have a reason to lie to you?"

 

"Non, he didn'..." So it probably was the truth! "I don' want dat kind of power."

 

"Remy," Charles started gently, "the X-gene does unpredictable things to us mutants. None of us get a say in what powers we have. We have to concentrate on learning to use them, deal with them and being a telepath myself, I think I can help you, teach you. I know what you're going through..."

 

"No, m'sieur, you don'!" Remy hissed, sharply. "You don' have any idea what I'm goin' t'rough, what Noir went t'rough, Remy or Gambit, no one knows..." Except for Jean-Luc mebbe...

 

Charles frowned. "Noir?"

 

"Should learn to keep my big mout' shut!" Remy jumped from the couch and paced in front of the window.

 

Charles sighed; Remy was locking him out again. Maybe Remy needed a break? "I need to check if Scott has sent a message yet. Can we talk some more during dinner?" That should give Remy enough time to calm down.

 

"I ain' sure you should come back, m'sieur," Remy whispered, turning his back to Charles.

 

"But you need someone to talk to. Try to decide how much you can confide in me, Remy. I'm a friend... try to keep that in mind." Charles steered his hoverchair toward the doorway. "If you really don't want to talk, let me know and I won't come over for dinner."

 

Remy didn't react and Charles left the boathouse, feeling restless and anxious.

 

///

 

The hours passed slowly and Charles actually arrived early. Knocking on the door, he inhaled the inviting fragrances of a well-cooked dinner. When Remy opened the door, Charles raised an eyebrow. The young Cajun had changed into jeans and a red shirt, which complimented his eyes. He made up his mind, Charles realized, seeing the determination in the red on black orbs.

 

"Please come inside, m'sieur..." Remy stepped aside to let Charles pass. He was nervous, unsure why. Maybe it was because he had decided to answer Charles' questions without holding back?

 

"Smells great," Charles complimented him as he ventured into the kitchen.

 

"Rien de fancy, m'sieur, jus' steaks, mashed potatoes and greens..." Remy blushed, seeing Charles' nod of approval. He picked up their plates and carried them over to the table. "Bon appetite..."

 

Charles smiled, tasting the steak. "Just the way I like it."

 

Some of the tension left Remy's body at hearing the compliment. He barely managed to eat a few bites himself, still feeling nervous. "What else do you want to know, m'sieur?"

 

"Who's Noir?" Charles placed knife and fork on the plate and waited for Remy's answer.

 

Remy bowed his head, staring at the barely touched food on his plate. "Dat's my real name." Bien, I'll tell him everyt'in'. "When I was born Sinister killed my mère, wantin' me for his experiments himself, mais Jean-Luc stole me from de hospital 'cause de Antiquary wanted me for his Velvet Ministry. De Antiquary's a telepath who feeds on mutants to stay 'live. When I was nine I escaped and ended up on Bourbon Street where I prostituted myself. I ran into Jean-Luc when I was tryin' to score some dope and he took me in."

 

"What?" Charles blinked his eyes. What had Remy just told him? "You prostituted yourself at nine years old?"

 

"Had to survive somehow, m'sieur. Didn' know much 'bout de real world when I got 'way from de Antiquary... Lookin' back, I t'ink Philippe, my pimp, took advantage of me, mais..." Remy tried to fight back his tears. Merde, why was he always this emotional?

 

Charles was still trying to deal with everything Remy had just told him. "Sinister killed your mother and Jean-Luc stole you from the hospital?" He knew about Jean-Luc, Remy had mentioned the Cajun a few times, but learning that Sinister had been present at Remy's birth worried him. "I don't know what to say... that's horrible, Remy."

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "It's in de past, m'sieur."

 

"But the past will always be with you," Charles reasoned. Should he offer comfort by touch? He wasn't a very tactile person, but Remy seemed to need physical reassurance. Slowly, he rested his hand on Remy's. Remy flinched at the touch and Charles almost pulled back, almost... Suddenly Remy's defenses went down and Charles sucked in his breath, catching a glimpse of Hugo flipping Remy onto his stomach. "I never knew... never suspected."

 

"Poppa and tante t'ink I'm too good at hidin' t'ings," Remy offered apologetically, staring at Charles' hand. "Why else do you wanna know 'bout my past?"

 

Charles took a deep breath. "I want to understand you."

 

Remy laughed sharply. "Understand me? M'sieur, I don' even understand myself!"

 

"We'll work on that," he said, smiling. "Remy, is there anything else I need to know before we start working on your powers?"

 

Remy gave Charles a thoughtful look. He didn't have that many secrets left and he simply couldn't tell Charles that Sinister was his father. Can' tell him I'm in love wit' Scott eit'er... "Don' know, m'sieur... you got any questions?"

 

"Why did you come back?"

 

That question almost made him nauseous. "T'ought you wanted me here... change your mind, m'sieur?"

 

"No, I'm glad you're back, but I want to know why you came back. The X-Men didn't offer you any reason to return to the mansion. What are you looking for here? What are you hoping to find?"

 

"A home?" The words left his lips unintended.

 

Charles smiled. "That's what I hoped you'd say, Remy." Squeezing Remy's hand, they finished dinner. Remy had taken the first step and Charles felt confident he could help Remy control his mental powers.

 

///

 

"Good morning, m'sieur." Remy shyly entered the professor's study. He had only come to the mansion because everyone else was gone.

 

"Remy, come inside." Charles tried to mask his uncertainty, but he was fairly sure Remy picked up on it. It was hard for one telepath to fool another, especially if that other was an empath as well.

 

"You're worried," Remy realized, wishing he could stop blurting everything out. One day he would make a really stupid remark and find himself in a lot of trouble. "Is it de team? Lilandra?"

 

"Lilandra's fine. I managed to contact her telepathically."

 

"Den you're worried 'bout someone on de team?" Remy hadn’t intended to probe Charles' mind; it happened subconsciously. "Jean?"

 

"The Phoenix..." Charles wondered how to tell Remy. "They needed the Phoenix to help and Jean... she's become a part of the Phoenix and is now roaming the universe. They're trying to contact her, but Scott..."

 

Remy collapsed onto a chair. "She loves Scott... he can pull her back."

 

"Not this time," Charles said, saddened. "I don't have the details, but Scott sounded distressed, like he'd given up."

 

"He'll find her, m'sieur," Remy offered.

 

Charles sighed, not sharing Remy's faith. "Let's hope for the best, Remy." The thought of losing Jean to the Phoenix saddened, even angered him. But he had always known this day might come. The Phoenix and Jean shared a tight connection and the power was consuming her, stripping Jean of her humanity, not even leaving the core of her personality intact. Scott feared he might have lost her permanently this time, and when Scott worried, he worried.

 

///

 

Remy was taking a nap, a luxury he seldom indulged in, when a soft tapping sound began to echo in his mind. It sounded like someone was gently knocking on the door, but when he opened his eyes, his empathy told him he was alone at the boathouse.

 

Remy?

 

Merde, what was that? M'sieur? Why was Charles contacting him telepathically? Wasn't it easier to make a telephone call? And why the tapping? Or was it Charles' way of making sure the telepathic contact was welcome? Somet'in' wrong? Any news from de team?

 

No, not yet... Remy...

 

Charles' hesitance puzzled Remy. Oui, m'sieur?

 

I need to get out of here. Waiting for news is driving me insane... there's nothing we can do and I was wondering... would you join me for dinner? I know a nice French restaurant and...

 

La Petite Crevette? Know dat restaurant... been dere myself... good food. Oui, m'sieur, of course I'll join you. Promptly, his stomach began to growl softly.

 

Meet me in the hall in fifteen minutes?

 

Bien sur, m'sieur. Suddenly the professor's mind voice was gone and Remy shivered, realizing he could grow used to hearing it more often; it reduced his loneliness. Remy jumped to his feet, stretched and looked at the clothes he was wearing. The jeans were hardly appropriate and he decided to dress up for the occasion.

 

///

 

When Remy arrived in the hall, he found Charles already waiting. Charles was wearing a grey suit and Remy was glad he had changed into the black slacks, grey turtleneck and black velvet jacket. "Ready to go, m'sieur?"

 

"Why don't you call me Charles?"

 

Remy avoided answering the question. "Which car you wanna take?"

 

"Take the Mercedes, Remy. Pull it up in front of the mansion." Charles steered his hoverchair to the right and pulled a normal wheelchair into view. After pushing himself out of the hoverchair he settled down in the normal wheelchair. "We don't want to draw attention, do we?"

 

"I guess not..." Remy briefly left Charles to get the car and then helped the professor settle down in the passenger's seat, collapsed the wheelchair and put it in the trunk. "Don' you hate it dat you have to hide de hoverchair?"

 

"I don't want people to feel uncomfortable. Isn't that why you're wearing dark glasses yourself?" Charles buckled up and Remy keyed the ignition. The gate opened and they left the mansion. "Remy?"

 

"Oui, dat's why I'm wearin' dem. Dey called me Le Diable Blanc on Bourbon Street and..." And the alien eyes were Sinister's legacy, his father's legacy, but he couldn't tell Charles.

 

"Having them caused you pain in the past," Charles summarized. "You could wear contacts."

 

"Non, I might hate my eyes, mais dey're part of me..." Remy concentrated on driving the car. Traffic was surprisingly heavy. "You wanna talk 'bout Jean?"

 

"No, not really," Charles replied, evasively. "I want to talk about you."

 

"You know everyt'in' dere's to know 'bout me."

 

"Why don't I believe that?" Charles teased, but saw Remy flinch at the same time. The young Cajun was still keeping secrets from him.

 

"I'm worried 'bout Jean," Remy said, changing tactics as he drove up the restaurant. He helped Charles back into the wheelchair and a waiter guided them to a table at the back of the establishment, for which Remy was grateful. It allowed them some privacy. "I 'ways liked her... hope Scott gets her back."

 

"We’ve lost Jean to the Phoenix before, but Scott has always managed to bring her back," Charles said, after they ordered their drinks. "But Scott sounded different this time... lost."

 

"Losin' Jean would break his heart. She's de love of his life." Remy grew quiet when the waiter returned to bring their drinks and take their orders. He didn't speak again until they were alone. "Why did you stay here? Don' you wanna help Lilandra in person?"

 

"Lilandra's a strong woman, Remy," Charles said gently. "And I have the utmost trust in the team."

 

"Even divided as dey are now?"

 

"Yes." Charles thanked the waiter for bringing their orders and began eating. Remy was merely poking his food. "Not hungry?"

 

"Not really," Remy admitted. He sipped his white wine and looked Charles in the eyes. "You don' have to take care of me. Have been doin' dat for years now."

 

Charles nodded his head. "I'm not babysitting you." But maybe I am, he thought privately. You seemed so emotional since your return that I almost fear leaving you to your own devices. Something's still wrong, something you're not telling me... I wish you'd stop hiding from me, Remy. But he shielded his thoughts carefully, making sure Remy didn't receive them.

 

Dinner proceeded in a comfortable silence while both men were busy sorting out their own thoughts.

 

///

 

Remy absentmindedly pushed Charles' wheelchair towards their car when his alarms kicked in. The hair at the back of his neck grew rigid and his whole body tensed. Charles however, was pleasantly chattering, remarking how much he liked this particular restaurant. Didn't the professor know they were being watched? Speaking aloud meant alerting their tail and the only option left was addressing the professor telepathically. But he had never before taken the initiative when it came to telepathic speech. M'sieur, someone's watchin' us.

 

I noticed that, Remy. Charles continued to talk, this time about the excellent food they had been served. But I don't want him to know we have discovered his presence.

 

Do you know who he is? Remy reached for his bo staff and cards.

 

Don't you, Remy? Don't you recognize his mind? You have met him before.

 

Remy concentrated harder and his empathy helped him find more pieces of the puzzle. Violence... rage... bloodlust... a craving for blood... so strong... Creed! Remy had barely finished that thought when Creed flung himself at him. Sharp claws flashed and he ducked out of their reach. Extending his bo staff, he charged it, and slammed it hard into Creed's midsection.

 

Creed barely seemed to feel the blow and laughed loudly. "Ah, we meet 'gain, Cajun. We still got unfinished business left and this time yer Daddy ain't around to fight me off!"

 

Remy prepared for another attack, quickly casting a glance at Charles, who had fallen from the wheelchair. He had to protect the professor and to take Creed out, but he had no idea how to do that. However, he wasn't going to give up. He charged his cards and threw them at Creed while using his bo staff to steady himself as he delivered a dropkick to Creed's head. The madman still didn't go down!

 

And I'm badly outta shape! It had been weeks since he had last worked out and he was no match for Creed. Physically, Creed was his superior. Remy launched another attack, trying to ignore his fear, but as Creed's claws ripped apart his shirt, his fear doubled, recalling how Creed had slashed him open in the tunnels. Losing his momentum, Remy stared at Creed as the other man wrapped his hand around his throat. Creed squeezed slowly, and Remy fought his rising panic. He had to do something or Creed would kill him first and then Charles.

 

Remy, don't rely on your charging power. Creed's too strong. Use your telepathy, your empathy! If Sinister was telling you the truth, you can take him on!

 

Mais I don' know how! Creed was still shutting off his air supply and he absentmindedly wondered why Charles wasn't helping him. Charles could probably take Creed out with a few telepathic commands.

 

Focus your thoughts... lower your defenses and catapult your power into his mind.

 

Like dat will work! But he didn't really have a choice. Creed was squeezing the life out of him, so he lowered his defenses and let his thoughts take on the outer appearance of a fist, which he slammed into Creed's mind. Suddenly, he was inside Creed's mind and he felt terrified; Creed's memories surrounded him.

 

Creed released him unexpectedly and Remy collapsed on to the concrete, panting for air while his mind seemed to remain linked to Creed's. Mon Dieu, I don' wanna be here! But he drifted along in Creed's memories until he reached the other man's past. There he found a young boy who had been locked in the basement. Merde, what's goin' on?

 

Dad locked me up in here... why did ya take me back here? Creed stared at the Cajun at his feet, feeling Remy clearly in his mind. Yer a fuckin' telepath! That explained how Remy had been able to enter his mind. Now he was back in the cold, dark basement where his father used to lock him up as punishment. I want out!

 

Don' know how! Remy stared helplessly at the boy, huddled in the darkest corner of the basement. Suddenly, the door opened and a bulky man descended the steps, heading for them.

 

"Told you a thousand times to keep your big mouth shut!" The man raised his right hand and his fist connected with the boy's jaw. "I don't wanna hear or see you, freak!"

 

Stunned, Remy glanced at the boy, whose eyes were simmering with rage. He beat you?

 

But in the end I beat him... Creed realized that he had lost the upper hand in this fight. But he had gained valuable information in return. The Cajun was a strong telepath! The telepath he had used to control his animalistic urges, Birdie, had died and he was always on the lookout for new flesh. Maybe Remy would do? Cocking his head, he weighed his chances. Should he make his move now or come back later when the Cajun least expected it?

 

Later. He couldn't take on two telepaths and although Xavier hadn't made a move yet, he didn't trust him. Moving quickly and soundlessly, he disappeared into the night.

 

Remy blinked his eyes, feeling Creed move away from him. "He's gone? Why?"

 

Charles pulled his wheelchair close and managed to raise himself enough to slip onto the seat. "Remy, what did you discover?" Although he had felt Remy push past Creed's defenses, he hadn't been in telepathic contact with them. "You must have learned something important for him to leave like that. He looked terrified."

 

"He was abused as a chile'... his fat'er beat him... and..." Remy was still kneeling on the cold concrete and pushed himself to his feet. "And dere's a way to control his urges... a telepath can help him control dem..."

 

"Just as I suspected." But why had Creed left? Charles didn't know the answer to that question and focused on something else. "Remy, I've got to ask."

 

Remy nodded his head, already knowing what question would follow. Thanks to Creed, his beginning friendship with Charles would end. Charles would never want him around after finding out the truth.

 

"What did Creed mean when he said that your Daddy wasn't around to help you fight him off?" Charles moved his wheelchair closer to Remy.

 

"Creed sexually assaulted me once," Remy confessed in a shaky tone.

 

"And who fought him off?" Charles sensed he was getting close to the core of Remy's pain, which the young Cajun almost constantly kept hidden. He had felt that pain before and now he had a chance to deal with it. "Who fought Creed off?"

 

"Sinister did." Remy was tired of lying. He had better come clean now, pack and leave the mansion. Charles wouldn't want Sinister's son close.

 

"Sinister?" Charles repeated, baffled. "Did you say Sinister?"

 

"Sinister's my real fat'er... he doesn' care 'bout me t'ough... all he wants is my DNA for his experiments. Dat's why he saved my life in de past." Remy kept his eyes lowered, unable to look at Charles. Although he had just lost his home, a huge weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders. He had always wanted to share this secret with someone, but no one had ever offered to help him carry the burden. "I guess I better start packin', non?"

 

"No," Charles said reassuringly. "Don't run away again. I get the impression that you've been running most of your life." It was a lot to deal with though; finding out that Remy was Sinister's son. But I should have known... his eyes resemble Sinister's.

 

"You want me to stay?" Remy finally lifted his eyes and stared at Charles in disbelief. "You want me to stay?"

 

"Yes, please stay."

 

"Stay..." Lost for words, Remy nodded his head. "Mais you can' tell anyone!"

 

"It'll be our secret, Remy. You don't have to carry it alone any longer." Charles felt like they were finally making real progress. "Let's go home and check the security system. I don't want Creed sneaking up on us at home."

 

"You t'ink he'll be back?" Remy felt relieved at the change of topic.

 

"I'm not sure, but we’d better not take any chances." Charles accepted Remy's assistance as the younger man helped him settle down on the passenger's seat again. After Remy slipped behind the wheel, Charles looked at him and said, "Let's go home, Remy."

 

"Oui, home," Remy mumbled, pleased, and keyed the ignition. Maybe coming back had been the right thing to do after all.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Chapter 5

Scott

 

Charles didn't sleep at all that night. He stayed up the majority of the night and after going to bed, he tossed and turned for hours. At dawn he dozed off for a few minutes, but then startled awake again.

 

She was gone. Jean's presence, which always hovered at the edges of his mind, had disappeared. He shivered violently; if he was experiencing Jean's absence like this, how was Scott dealing with the void, the emptiness that he had to be feeling in his mind now that Jean was gone?

 

Hopefully the team would be back soon. He feared for Scott's sanity; how would he cope with losing his beloved wife? It had never occurred to him that Scott or Jean would ever be separated. For some reason he had foolishly believed the couple would grow old together. The loss will devastate Scott. Will he be able to go on without Jean? He has to!

 

Charles left his bed, got dressed and quickly headed to the command room. After accessing the computer, he held his breath, waiting for any messages to pop up. Although he expected to see Scott on the screen, it was Storm, who appeared. She looked worried and her eyes were red; she’s been crying! It's true then... My powers told me, but I didn't want to believe we had lost Jean forever. Listening closely, his heart missed a beat.

 

"Professor, we have been unable to contact the Phoenix. Scott is now convinced that Jean is gone. He claims that her thoughts are gone and he can no longer sense her via the telepathic link they shared."

 

"How did it happen?" Charles knew he was addressing a recorded image, but maybe Storm had included this vital information.

 

"It was... so tragic, sir. Jean accessed the Phoenix's powers and at first she was able to control the power, but then... they merged... that's what Lilandra said. The Phoenix and Jean merged fully. Jean's body disappeared, was burned to a cinder and then the Phoenix took off. Sir, Scott almost collapsed when the Phoenix left. He mumbled that Jean was gone forever and we pursued the Phoenix for some time, hoping to prove Scott wrong, but we failed to establish contact." Storm's eyes filled with tears, but she tried to remain calm and in control of her feelings. "I relieved Scott of his leadership for the time being. He's in no condition to lead the team."

 

A fist squeezed Charles' heart, making it hard for him to breathe. They had lost Jean. He couldn't sense her presence any longer and Scott claimed that the telepathic link was gone. That could only mean that Jean had ceased to exist... maybe she had become a part of the Phoenix, merging with her as Storm had mentioned. "She won't be back..." Turning his attention back to Storm he listened to her words.

 

"We'll be back in 36 hours, sir. Scott's completely unresponsive at the moment. Hank's afraid Scott's becoming catatonic and wants to take him to his lab the moment we arrive at the mansion. Scott will need you, sir. Maybe you can reach him; he's shut us out."

 

The screen darkened as the message ended and Charles needed a moment to compose himself. Shaking his head, he mumbled softly, "We lost her... lost Jean..." And Hank was right. Scott was going to need all the support he could get. Storm had said that Scott was shutting them out, isolating himself and Charles forced himself to regain control of his feelings. Scott needed him, his support, and his help.

 

But then another shattering thought hit him. "I've got to tell Remy..." Jean and Remy were friends. Remy really liked her and Jean had a weak spot for him. This is going to be hard. Emotionally, Remy might not know how to handle the loss; his empathy might work against him. Maybe I should keep him away from Scott... Scott's loss and pain would enter Remy's mind tenfold and our Cajun doesn't have the means to cope with such strong emotions right now. He still needs to learn how to handle them... But I can worry about that later. First I have to tell Remy the dreadful news...

 

Feeling old and discouraged, Charles left the room and headed for the boathouse.

 

///

 

Remy knew something was wrong when he picked up on Charles' sense of loss and pain. He hadn't been scanning his surroundings; Charles' emotions suddenly flowed past his defenses and into his mind. Mon Dieu, he should take Charles up on his offer to help him build even stronger shields!

 

He jumped to his feet and left the bedroom, where he had been taking a catnap, still feeling edgy from last night's run-in with Creed. For most of the night he had been awake, listening to the sounds the boathouse created, afraid of feeling Creed's vile mind all over again.

 

After descending the stairs, he raced to the door and opened it. Charles' hand was still in the air ready to knock and now fell onto his lap. Words were unnecessary between them. Remy felt the loss in Charles' emotions, saw the images in the older man's mind and bowed his head. She's dead? Non, she can' be dead!

 

Remy, I'm truly sorry, but we have to accept the inevitable. Charles steered his hoverchair past Remy and took hold of the younger man's right hand, pulling his student over to the couch after closing the door. Sit down, you look like you're about to keel over. He needed Remy to be strong now, needed the Cajun's help.

 

"How can you be sure she's dead?" His voice trembled and Remy tried to swallow past the lump that had formed in his throat. "She can' be dead."

 

"I know you liked her," Charles started, studying Remy's facial expression closely. The news had shocked Remy, but hopefully the younger man would recover and offer his support once Remy realized why he had come here. "I know it's the truth because I can no longer feel her. Jean and I were close; a bond existed between us, but it's gone now."

 

Remy wiped away the few tears that had managed to escape his eyes. "You can no longer feel her?" That was bad, really bad! He didn't want proof that Jean was gone; he wanted evidence that she was still out there!

 

"I received a message from Storm. Apparently, Jean and the Phoenix merged, became one new presence and... Scott's catatonic. He refuses to react, is burying himself in his mind. It must be truly frightening for him," Charles explained, while looking Remy in the eyes. "Scott and Jean were linked telepathically and he hasn't been alone for years. All the time they were together, she lived in his mind. The emptiness must cause him excruciating pain."

 

Remy's watering eyes grew big. "Mon Dieu, I never t'ought of dat! He's catatonic?"

 

"Henry will take Scott to his lab to commence treatment, but he can't do it on his own. We might need your help, Remy." Remy's body tensed and Charles raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

 

"My help?"

 

Charles drew in a deep breath and prayed Remy wouldn't panic. "Remy, you're a telepath and an empath. I'll try to connect with Scott to draw him out of his catatonic state, but I'm no empath. I can't identify with his feelings or show him that he isn't alone by sending him my emotions. I'm limited to thoughts and if I fail..."

 

Suddenly Remy understood. "You can' ask me to do dat. I can' enter his mind and manipulate his feelings."

 

Charles shook his head. "I'm not asking you to manipulate his feelings, Remy. I merely want you to assure him that he isn't the only one mourning Jean's death; that there's a reason for him to return to the present. I need your empathy, Remy."

 

But Remy looked unconvinced. "I still don' know if I can do dat, m'sieur. I 'ways kept my empathy to myself. I have no experience wit' enterin' people's minds."

 

"And I don't have the time to teach you," Charles mumbled. "Look, Remy, this is important. The team needs you."

 

"De team?" Remy arched an eyebrow.

 

"Nobody wants to lose Scott... I don't want to lose Scott. He's the son I never had..." Charles wasn't sure if he regretted making that admission. "I don't have much family left, but Jean and Scott..."

 

Remy nodded his head, remembering Dave and Benjamin and how close he had felt to them. Losing them had almost destroyed him. "I'll do my best," he promised. "Mais I won' manipulate his feelings." Scott would hate him afterwards and the rest of the team would shun him even more.

 

"Thank you, Remy. We still have a few hours left until the Blackbird arrives. Maybe I can teach you some basic empathic strategies."

 

Reluctantly, Remy nodded his head. He didn't want to learn how to use his empathy on others, but this was a medical emergency. "Show me."

///

 

Remy watched from a distance as the Blackbird finally touched down. Charles has asked him to wait in his office, just in case the professor needed his help, and he had given in.

 

The first person to leave the Blackbird was Storm. She was obviously distressed and that worried Remy in turn. Storm seldom let her emotions get the better of her and he realized how serious the situation was. Next, Rogue and Joe exited the plane and joined Storm and the professor. He tried hard not to look at her, but failed. She looked beautiful and the fact that Joe was touching her bare skin probably had everything to do with that.

 

Glancing back to the Blackbird, he saw Betsy and Logan exit, walking side by side. Both looked depressed and Remy wondered where Warren was. Didn't Warren usually escort Betsy?

 

His question was answered in the next moment, when Warren and Bobby appeared. They looked pale and shocked, and waited for Hank, who was carrying Scott, to join them. Remy cringed, seeing Scott's catatonic state. Scott would never have allowed anyone to carry him if he had been in his normal state of mind, but things had changed. Hank gently carried Scott while Bobby and Warren hovered close by. Which makes sense... aren' dey part of de original team? Now dat Jean's gone, dis is all dey have left.

 

Remy? Charles looked up at his study and caught Remy's silhouette. Scott's in a bad way.

 

Until now, Remy had managed not to reach out to Scott to probe his mind. But urged on by Charles' words, he tentatively reached out and pulled back immediately, feeling the all consuming void in Scott's mind where Jean's presence had been. Charles was right; Scott was catatonic. What do we do now, m'sieur? Do you t'ink you can reach him?

 

I have to find out. Don't go anywhere and stay close. I might send for you later. Charles momentarily broke the connection to concentrate on Scott. Nothing... his mind was empty.

 

"I'm taking him to my lab," Hank informed them. "I'll do my best, but..." His voice faded, knowing better than to make promises he couldn't keep. Scott had never given up like this before and it worried him, seeing his old friend this helpless.

 

"I'll join you in the lab. Storm, the debriefing can wait. I need to check on Scott first." Charles waited until Storm nodded her head and then he followed Bobby, Warren, Hank and Scott to the lab. It didn't surprise him that the original members wanted to be close to Scott. He glanced at the rest of the team, Storm clearly felt left out. "Go, rest... we'll talk later."

 

Storm left with the others. Charles quickly followed Hank and contacted Remy again. Please come to the lab as well. I've got the feeling I'll need your help.

 

What 'bout Warren? He won' want me dere... Maybe he should wait until Warren had left before joining the professor.

 

Let me worry about Warren. Just come down here, now. Charles felt Remy's reluctance to join them, but the younger man was on his way to the lab. Good.

 

///

 

Hank placed Scott gently on an exam bed and Warren and Bobby stayed close, watching their catatonic friend. Charles knew he had to talk to Warren before Remy joined them. He steered his hoverchair toward Warren and waited until the other man met his eyes.

 

"Sir?" Warren felt confused. Scott had always been the strong one, the rock he had depended on. It was disconcerting to see him like this. It felt surreal, like they were stuck in an alternate universe, except this was reality, their own universe.

 

"I’ve asked Remy to join us and he's on his way to the lab." Charles studied Warren closely and noticed the anger in his eyes. "Remy's an empath, Warren. Scott's locked us out and I'm not sure I can bring him back, but an empath surely can."

 

"I don't want that traitor close to Scott. I'll ask Bets to..." Warren shook his head. "I don't want him around!"

 

Charles' expression changed and became firm and authoritative. "Warren, Betsy is a telepath, not an empath. You can't let your anger get in the way of this. Scott needs help. You're Scott's friend; don't deny him this."

 

"An empath? "Warren suddenly realized what Charles had revealed to him. "Are you telling me the thief's a fucking empath? Why didn't we know? Is it just another one of his secrets?"

 

"I knew he was an empath," Bobby said softly.

 

"And so did I." Hank nodded his head once. "Warren, the professor's right. Scott needs all the help he can get."

 

"Then why didn't I know...? Why not tell me?" Stubbornly, Warren glared at the professor. "Has the thief been manipulating us all this time?"

 

Charles was growing angry. "Think, Warren! If he had used his empathy on us, we would be his friends now. He could have 'charmed' us into liking him, loving and adoring him. Instead, you hate him! Does that sound like he's been manipulating you? The reason why he kept this secret was because he knew you'd react like that. Storm, Rogue, Betsy, they'll reach the same conclusion you did. That's why he didn't tell us!"

 

Warren briefly closed his eyes to escape Charles' angry eyes. What Charles said made sense, he had to admit that. "But he's a fucking empath..." He opened his eyes and met Charles' glare. "Let me guess, he's a telepath as well? Is that how he managed to throw Bets out of his mind?"

 

Charles merely nodded once. "And we're not going to fight about this. Remy will help me reach Scott and if you don't like that, I suggest you leave now."

 

Warren felt undecided. He hated the Cajun, but realized that Scott might need an empath's help. He didn't want to desert his friend right now, but wasn't sure he wanted to face Gambit. The choice was taken away from him as the door opened and revealed Remy LeBeau.

 

Remy froze, staring into Warren's icy eyes. Merde, why hadn't the professor listened to him? This was a mistake! Warren would never let him close to Scott!

 

"Warren..." Charles whispered the name softly, then made eye contact with Warren. "Let Remy help."

 

Warren waged an inner war. He simply didn't trust the thief, but Scott needed help! "I'll keep my eye on you, Cajun."

 

"Remy, come here..." Charles acted at once as Warren stepped aside to let Remy pass.

 

Bobby smiled reassuringly as Remy shyly glanced at him. "Yeah, help Slim, Remy."

 

Remy felt uncomfortable and nervous when he stepped up to the professor. Why had he ever let his guard down and told them about his mental powers? "M'sieur?" Wasn't Charles going to try connecting with Scott first? Wasn't he just supposed to be back up?

 

"I want you to monitor Scott while I try contacting him. Use your empathy to find out why he's catatonic." Charles steered his hoverchair until he had reached the head of the exam table and placed his hands on either side of Scott's head. "Should I fail, I want you to try next, Remy."

 

Remy swallowed hard, growing increasingly nervous under Warren's suspicious glare. Warren really didn't want him here and only allowed him to stay because Scott was important to him.

 

Charles concentrated on his task and gently pushed past Scott's defenses. Slowly, he ventured deeper into his student's mind, shivering as he felt only emptiness and cold. Scott, where are you? Why are you ignoring me? Please, Scott... we should talk about what happened. We need to address Jean...

 

Argh... nooooo...

 

Remy clutched his head as Scott's pain-filled wail flowed past his shields and into his mind. Have to stay in control... have to stay calm... can' let Scott down now... Scott's agony doubled and Remy swayed on his feet. His eyes filled with tears up and his entire body shivered. The pain... the agony... Suddenly, a hand came to rest at the small of his back, steadying him. Confused, he looked at Warren, who was helping him stay on his feet.

 

"That bad?" Warren's face briefly contorted. "When Scott realized she was gone he collapsed. None of us could reach him... can you?" It looked like the professor had given up as well; Charles' hands had dropped and now rested in his lap. "I want him back, LeBeau, Scott's my friend."

 

Bobby moved a little closer and placed his hand on Warren's shoulder. "Don't, Warren. You don't have to push him. I'm sure Remy wants to help."

 

Hank joined them. "Scott's vital signs are alarmingly out of control. He needs rest."

 

"No," Charles spoke up. "We can't allow Scott to lock us out. Remy, I want you to try... now."

 

Remy slowly shook his head. He had managed to compose himself again and stepped away from Warren, feeling uncomfortable beneath the other man's touch. "I can' do it."

 

"You have to try, Remy," Bobby said, softly. "We lost Jean... we can't afford to lose Scott as well. We're friends and friends help each other. Give it a try, don't let Scott get away with this."

 

Hank nodded approvingly. "Scott's convinced he's got nothing left to live for. You have to prove him wrong."

 

"How can I?" Remy wondered aloud; like he had something left to live for!

 

"Hank, pull up a chair for Remy..." Charles instructed. "Remy, sit down and place your hands on Scott's head like I did... yes, that's it." He felt relieved now that Remy was following his orders. Briefly, he had been worried that Remy would lack the courage to help. "Remember what I taught you... relax, reach out... try to feel Scott's feelings and let yourself fall... don't worry... I'll pull you back, should you lose yourself in his feelings... trust me..."

 

Remy closed his eyes and focused inward. I can do dis... I have to do dis... I owe Scott and Jean... dey came back for me. Using the relaxation techniques Mattie had taught him as a child, he let go of the tension and allowed himself to soak up Scott's feelings. Mon Dieu! His pain... de sense of loss... It's cold and dark in here... I don' wanna be in his mind! I don' belon' here!

 

Remy, don't panic, Charles advised. Let Scott pull you closer. Don't fight his despair, let it pull you close and follow it to the core where you will find him.

 

I'm scared... Remy admitted, but he pushed on, encouraged by Charles' words. The cold pain wrapped itself around his mind and pulled him deeper. Images of Jean flashed around him, distorted by the darkness. Her face was slowly fading and in its place appeared the blinding light of the Phoenix, roaring into Scott's mind. De connection... it was ripped 'part... he didn' get a chance to pull 'way.

 

That's why he's catatonic. Remy, you need to fill Jean's place... Charles rested his hand on Remy's, which was twitching and turning into a claw. It's the only way to guide him back. He needs you to show him the way. Jean's gone and she can't help him, but you can. Form a temporary link and pull Scott to the surface again.

 

I can' replace Jean! Remy trembled. Had Charles really said that? No one could take Jean's place!

 

Do you want Scott to stay like this for the rest of his life? Because that's what will happen if you refuse to help him. Do you think Jean would approve of Scott slipping into a vegetative state? Don't you think she'd want him to live his life to the fullest? Jean can't ask you to help Scott, so I'm asking in her place. Don't let Scott down. Charles hoped Remy understood how important it was that he try. You're Scott's last hope.

 

Remy drew in a deep breath. Scott was drifting away from him, leaving him alone in a dark corner of the other man's mind. He had to take the initiative if he wanted Scott to follow him home. Making this commitment scared him. He had never done something like this before. Never before had someone been dependant on him! Determination, born out of desperation, urged him on and he dived deeper into Scott's psyche, trying to establish contact.

 

Scott, wait, don' run! Suddenly, the pain was back, surrounding him. He had found Scott, had found the core of the pain that the broken link had caused. Scott hadn't had any time to prepare himself for the shattering of the link and had been telepathically injured when the Phoenix had ripped the bond apart.

 

Who are you? Why are you here? Do I know you? And where's Jean? Why can't I feel her any longer?

 

Remy cringed, hearing Scott's despair. C'est moi, Cyke. It's Gambit. De professor wants me to help you, guide you back.

 

Where's Jean? Why can't I feel her any longer? Where is she?

 

Scott sounded frantic, and Remy didn't know how to tell his friend the truth. How did you tell a man that his wife was dead?

 

Where's Jean? Scott yelled.

 

Remy, you've got to take control of the situation, Charles advised. He can't hear me. Scott only allowed you in... use your empathy, Remy!

 

Remy felt torn. Merde, he couldn't tell Scott Jean had died, couldn't be the bearer of such terrible news. Feeling Scott's despair, he was jerked into action. Cyke? You know me, it's Gambit, remember me? I'm a friend... I'm here to take you back... de professor really wants to talk to you, mon ami.

 

Just tell me what happened to Jean! Scott was panicking. Why wasn't Jean close and what was Remy doing in his mind?

 

Remy's heart missed a beat. Cyke, remember de Phoenix and...

 

Scott screamed... Remy cried out helplessly and Warren and Bobby moved quickly when Remy threatened to fall from the chair he was sitting on.

 

"Sir, what's happening?" Warren looked at Charles for answers.

 

"Scott finally remembered what happened to Jean and he's gone into shock..." Charles felt like he was losing control. Remy, can you hear me?

 

Please, m'sieur... stop de pain...

 

Only Scott can stop the pain. Tell him he's hurting you! Charles reached out again, trying to establish some sort of contact with Scott, but the younger man refused to acknowledge his presence.

 

Remy started to pant hard as Scott's pain slashed through him. Cyke, please... can' take dis any more... He was chasing Scott, searching the dark places in the other man's mind. Don' hide, mon ami, I jus' wanna help!

 

She's dead! Scott screamed his pain, his loss. Jean's gone! The Phoenix took her! Took her away from me!

 

Cyke... Scott, please stop! You're hurtin' me! De pain's too much! Remy squirmed on the chair.

 

"Let's help him lie down," Hank suggested and watched as Bobby and Warren carefully placed Remy on the floor. Bobby pushed a pillow beneath Remy's head and grabbed the Cajun's hand, hoping Remy sensed his support. "Hank, what's happening?" He didn't dare address Charles, who was obviously concentrating on staying in touch with Remy.

 

"I don't know, Robert," Hank said honestly. "But we should put a stop to this," he said, turning toward Charles. "Scott's vital signs are out of control."

 

"Not yet," Charles forced the words out from between clenched lips. "Remy's too close to let go now." Remy, if necessary use force to pull Scott back!

 

Non! I won' use force 'gainst him! Scott tried to pull away from Remy, but he followed. Scott, you can' run 'way. Jean wouldn' want you to run!

 

Get out of my head, Remy! I didn't invite you in and I don't want you here. Just get the fuck out!

 

Scott's words hurt and Remy almost turned away... almost. Love, and fear of rejection were waging a battle and he wasn't sure which one would win. He was still in love with Scott and couldn't bear the thought of leaving him behind, but Scott obviously didn't want him around, so why was he still here? Please, Scott, lemme guide you back home. Dey want you to wake up.

 

Who does? The only one who matters to me is Jean and she's gone!

 

De professor's worried. Warren and Bobby haven' left your side since Jean... died... Hank's monitorin' you and de ot'ers want you back at well. Dey're your friends. Dey need you and you need dem. Jean wouldn' want you to bury yourself 'live, Scott. She would want you to live your life and be wit' your friends, to allow dem to comfort you. Remy paused, wondering if he should piss Scott off or not. Jean would kick your ass for wallowin' in self-pity like dis. Remy held his breath.

 

Scott 's anger suddenly disappeared. Remy was right. Jean would kick his butt for acting like this. She had taught him to face his problems, not run away from them. But the prospect of living his life without Jean to complete him, terrified him. How could he live like that? Live with the constant emptiness that reminded him of Jean's death? She had been part of him for so many years that he couldn't imagine a life without her. I can't do this on my own, Remy.

 

You don' have to. De professor's here as well and we can guide you back, mais you have to come willingly. I won' force you to come back... Remy felt tired and drained; Scott's depression was forcing its way into his mind and he wasn't sure he was strong enough to fight for the both of them. Briefly, he thought back to Sinister telling him that he was headed for another emotional breakdown because he couldn't control his empathy. Had Sinister been right? He had to take that chance. Maybe if he could pull Scott's depression into his mind, it would give Scott the chance to grow strong again.

 

Soaking up Scott's dark feelings, his breathing slowed. A film of sweat appeared on his brow, but he didn't give up and continued to pull Scott closer to consciousness. M'sieur, need your help...

 

Tell me what to do! Charles concentrated on Remy's thoughts, realizing the Cajun needed his guidance. Remy was still too inexperienced to bring Scott back alone. Listen to my mind voice, Remy. Use it as a beacon. Can you feel its pull? Don't fight it...

 

Oui, m'sieur, I hear you. Cyke, do you hear de professor as well? Hopefully Scott hadn't changed his mind and was still willing to leave his catatonic state.

 

Yes, I hear the professor, Remy. The only thing that kept Scott going was the fact that Jean would want him to make the best of it. He owed it to Jean to return to the team, honor her memory and try to be an asset to the X-Men, although he doubted he could still lead the team. Storm had lead the team before and she had done a great job back then. Surely she would agree to assume leadership again!

 

Cyke? Are you still wit' me? Don' make me come back to get you! Remy forced back his panic. He couldn't force Scott to follow him back, but he prayed the other man wouldn't give up now. Scott?

 

I'm still with you, Scott assured Remy. Part of him wished he could stay in the darkness, hide from life and from his loss, but the team wouldn't let them.

 

Professor? M'sieur? What do I do now? Straining his neck, Remy managed to catch a glance of Scott's face and he cursed the visor, which prevented him from looking into the other man's eyes. "M'sieur?"

 

"You did well, Remy," Charles quickly reassured him. Scott was waking up and feeling disorientated. "Henry, you'd better keep a sedative ready. We might have to put him to sleep again... depends on how agitated he is."

 

Warren looked from Scott to Gambit and saw the exhaustion in the black on red eyes. When Charles had suggested Remy go in after Scott he had doubted the wisdom of that decision, but it looked like Charles had made the right call. Bobby's hand, which rested on his arm, gave him a gentle squeeze and as he looked at his friend, he found Bobby smiling. He couldn't deny feeling equally relieved.

 

"Bringing Scott back was the easy part," Charles warned them. "Now he has to work through losing Jean. He'll need our support."

 

"He has it," Warren vowed passionately. Suddenly, Scott moaned softly and Warren moved a little closer. "Scott? Can you hear me?"

 

"Yes..." Scott's voice was hoarse. "Headache..."

 

"That's normal," Charles quickly assured him. "The link was ripped apart and we had to enter your mind to get you back."

 

"She's... dead... dead..." Scott licked his lips, growing agitated again. "Why? Why did she leave me? Sir, why?"

 

"Henry?" Charles gestured Hank to inject the sedative when Scott began to squirm on the exam table, almost dropping onto the floor. Warren and Bobby managed to stop him and pushed him back onto the exam table.

 

Hank gently injected the sedative into Scott's right arm and smoothed back the hair that had fallen into Scott's face.

 

"Scott, I want you to rest. Don't fight it," Charles took hold of Scott's hand, rubbing the skin softly. "Relax..."

 

Scott lacked the energy to fight back his tears. "Sir, how? How am I supposed to live without her? Without Jean... my Jean... my love... my wife?"

 

Charles swallowed hard. "We'll do this together, Scott. I promise." Scott slipped into sleep again and Charles tucked a warm blanket around Scott's form.

 

"Professor? Hank? Gimme a hand? Remy's lost consciousness." They had been so focused on Scott that they had forgotten about Remy! Luckily, Bobby had kept an eye on him. Lifting Remy was almost beyond his strength and Bobby felt relieved when Hank took the unconscious man from him.

 

Hank placed Remy on the exam table to Scott's right and hooked the younger man up to a monitor, placing electrodes on his brow. "I'll run a test on him. Once we get back the results we know what happened."

 

"Bringing back Scott exhausted him," Charles said. "Remy never used his powers to this extent before. I suggest you let him rest. He'll probably wake up in a few hours and complain about vertigo and a headache. However, he should recover quickly."

 

"Professor, what about Scott? What do I tell the others?" Warren shuffled his feet, eager to tell the rest of the team that Scott had briefly regained consciousness.

 

"You can tell them that Scott's no longer catatonic." Charles exchanged a glance with Hank. "But he'll remain in the lab and so will Remy. No visitors."

 

Warren nodded his head and moved toward the doorway. "Are you coming, Drake?" Now that the crisis was over, Hank probably wanted his patients to have some privacy.

 

Bobby cleared his throat, looked at Scott and Remy one more time and then joined Warren.

 

After the two men had left the lab, Charles addressed Hank. "Scott's emotionally a mess."

 

"And what about our Cajun friend? Can he deal with Scott's pain?" Hank was watching his patients' vital signs. Remy's had already stabilized and Scott's frantic heartbeat was slowing down as well.

 

"Remy's strong... I'm more worried about Scott. Jean was his life." Charles pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling surprisingly helpless.

 

Hank nodded his head. "He loved Jean so much..."

 

"And I'm counting on that love to pull him through. Remy handled the situation well by telling Scott that Jean would want him to go on instead of burying himself alive..." Remy would be instrumental to Scott's recovery and he hoped that the young Cajun was strong enough to fight for both of them.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Chapter 6

Remy

 

Charles steered his hoverchair closer to the exam beds. Scott was still sound asleep due to the sedative, but Remy was stirring from a restless sleep. He was squirming uncomfortably and Charles couldn't help feeling worried. He had witnessed Remy's actions and wondered what absorbing Scott's depression had done to him. The young Cajun could be headed for a major emotional breakdown.

 

Remy groaned, turned onto his right side and slowly opened his eyes. The dim lights hurt his sensitive eyes and he quickly closed them again. Slowly, he became aware of the dark, cold, blanket that had wrapped itself around his very soul. It was dragging him down, almost rendering him motionless. He didn't feel like moving, like talking, or even acknowledging the professor's presence.

 

"Remy? I know you're awake, can you hear me?" Charles moved his hoverchair to the other side of the exam table so he could see Remy's face. The young Cajun shivered violently and Charles added another warm blanket. Patiently, he waited for Remy to look at him. "Remy? What's going on? I can only help if you talk to me."

 

Talking seemed utterly useless and Remy shook his head. The darkness was inside his mind, covering his thoughts and rendering him helpless. All he wanted was to be left alone.

 

"Remy? Please look at me? Open your eyes for me?" Charles exchanged a concerned look with Hank, who nodded his head, encouragingly. They had to lure Remy into talking, into responding.

 

"Don', m'sieur... jus' lemme be..." Uttering the few words exhausted him. A terrible weight was pushing him down and his muscles were painfully tense.

 

Charles moved even closer and gently rested his hand on Remy's brow. "What did you do to bring Scott back?" He was carefully probing Remy's mental state, but the younger man easily threw him out of his mind, leaving Charles gasping for breath. "Remy, I can't help you like this."

 

Don' want your help... Remy curled up beneath the blankets, determined not to let Charles nose around in his mind. "Wanna go back to sleep."

 

"Remy, we need to talk, discuss what happened while you were inside Scott's mind." Charles had composed himself again, but still felt shocked that Remy had managed to throw him out like that. How strong was the young Cajun? Charles doubted Remy had reached his full potential yet.

 

"Is Scott bien?" Remy was tempted to roll onto his other side to check on him, but repressed that urge. Scott wasn't interested in him anyway, why pretend differently?

 

"We had to sedate him," Charles explained. "Scott was agitated and disorientated. He's asleep now."

 

"Mais he'll be bien?" Remy shivered beneath the blankets, but not from the cold. His body felt warm, but his mind felt like ice. His thoughts were running in circles and feelings of self-hate and guilt were making him nauseous. What was Charles doing here, wasting his time on him?

 

"I don't know," Charles said honestly. "He took the first step by following you back, but now it's up to us to help him complete the healing process. He's going to need your help, Remy." Charles attempted to probe Remy's mind again and this time he succeeded, but barely. "You're feeling this low because you absorbed Scott's depression. You have to lower your shields so the feelings have a way out."

 

But Remy wasn't listening to Charles, lost in his feelings of failure and guilt. His whole life was a mess, a combination of big mistakes and bad choices. He didn't really deserve another chance, didn't deserve to be part of the X-Men or even to stay here. Why the hell was he hanging on? Shouldn't he know by now that he was a complete fuck-up and that he only hurt the ones close to him? Maybe it was time to end it all.

 

"Remy..." Charles' concern increased, sensing in which direction Remy's thoughts were heading. "Don't think about suicide. It's Scott's depression, not yours. You have to let it go."

 

But Remy didn't answer, willing himself to fall asleep again. Hopefully Charles would be gone once he woke again. Then he would slip out of Henri's lab and leave Westchester. Find myself a nice quiet place to die. Den people can stop worryin' 'bout me. It's not like I'm addin' somet'in' to deir lives. I'm only makin' dem miserable.

 

Charles felt Remy slip away from him and he tried to stop the Cajun. Remy, don't you dare do this to me! But his words were in vain as Remy continued to drift away from him. Turning toward Hank, he felt helpless. "He won't let me help him. What do we do now? We have to find a way to reach him."

 

"Maybe Scott will be able to reach him?" Hank looked from Remy to his other patient. "Do you think he'll be up to reaching out to Remy when he wakes up?"

 

Charles shrugged his shoulders. "We'll have to wait and see. If Remy truly took Scott's depression away he might feel stronger when he wakes up." Charles wished he had foreseen this development when he had asked Remy to help. He should have taken into account that an empath would be inclined to absorb Scott's feelings of guilt, but instead he had pushed Remy into unknown territory. What if they failed to show Remy how to let go of Scott's guilt? He refused to lose Remy over this. It's my fault. I made the mistake and now Remy's paying for it. I have to find a way to make Remy understand why he's feeling this way...

 

///

 

Scott slowly drifted toward consciousness, still fighting the return to the surface. Jean's absence physically hurt and a throbbing headache made it hard to think rationally. Before opening his eyes, he wanted to mentally review everything that had happened these last few days.

 

The day he had lost Jean was the worst in his entire life. One moment the link had been buzzing and powerful and the next the Phoenix had ripped it apart. The link had snapped, and he hadn't been able to stop the Phoenix from consuming Jean. He had felt how Jean had become a part of the Phoenix, had heard her parting words, a promise of eternal love. A last goodbye had swept through his mind and then Jean had ceased to exist as an individual.

 

Forever, he had lost her forever. Her love for him was no more. Only the roar of the Phoenix had drifted into his mind when he had reached out for Jean one last time. The emptiness had overwhelmed him and he had lost himself in the void.

 

But then something extraordinary had happened. Someone had reached out for him, had managed to draw him out of his shell. It had been a male voice and he had followed it back to consciousness. At a certain moment Charles had been there as well, but that first presence puzzled him. Why had he obeyed that voice?

 

Gambit! Scott tried to move, but an overall sense of weakness prevented him from sitting up. Remy! It was Remy who pulled me back! Recent events returned to him. Jean had welcomed Remy home with open arms and they had learned that the Cajun possessed empathic and telepathic abilities. But why had it been Remy who had pulled him back? Why hadn't Charles entered his mind? Remy lacked experience and training and must have acted on instinct while talking him into coming back.

 

Oh my God, Jean! Why did you leave me? I need you so badly. I don't know how to go on living without you. For so many years your thoughts accompanied mine and now there's nothing left. But the guilt and the pain that had overwhelmed him earlier weren't that strong anymore and they didn't allow him to flee into oblivion.

 

"Scott, do you hear me?"

 

Charles' voice formed an unwelcome intrusion, but he reacted to it, obeying ingrained instincts. "Yes, sir."

 

"Do you know what happened?" Charles monitored Scott closely, relieved that at least one of them seemed willing to cooperate.

 

Scott laughed, embittered. "How could I forget? The Phoenix took Jean away from me!" Finally, he managed to push himself into a sitting position. His vision was a bit blurry at first, but then Charles' face came in to focus. Suddenly, he realized that he was in Hank's lab. When had they gotten back to Earth? Why didn't he remember the trip home?

 

"I'm sorry, Scott. I loved Jean as well." Charles leaned in closer, knowing that his words did little to comfort Scott; the loss was too great. "How are you feeling?"

 

"Sad... lonely... and I'm angry." Scott looked about, met Hank's concerned eyes and then looked away again. "The Phoenix took Jean away from me... I don't know how to live without her."

 

"You don't have to do this on your own," Charles assured Scott. "Can you sit upright? Henry wants you to drink something."

 

Hank joined them and handed Scott a glass of water. When Scott managed to take hold of it and to place it at his lips, Hank let go of the glass. Scott's hands trembled slight, but his patient managed to empty the glass without spilling its content. Scott's readings were stabilizing now that his patient was awake and Hank looked over at Remy. It was impossible to tell whether the young Cajun was asleep or merely pretending to be asleep.

 

"Scott, what's the last thing you remember?" Charles moved his hoverchair closer to the exam table and by doing that, he offered Scott a view of Remy, who was still resting on the other exam table.

"He guided me back... Said Jean would kick my ass for wallowing in self-pity and he's right. Jean would never let me get away with it." Scott stared at Remy's back. "Is he asleep?"

 

Charles drew in a deep breath. "Remy absorbed your depression," he started, "and now he's trapped in your dark feelings of pain and guilt."

 

Scott moved, trying to find a more comfortable position. "He's experiencing my feelings?" Somehow, that angered him. Only he was allowed to feel this depressed; Jean had been his wife and he had failed to bring her back.

 

"No, not any more." Charles' gaze became sad. "I think he's reliving his own failures right now. He refuses to lower his shields to offer the depression a way out and I can't convince him to trust me."

 

Scott, who was sitting completely upright now, moved slowly, but managed to put his feet onto the floor. "Do you think I can help?" Cautiously, he put his weight on his feet and swayed briefly. Luckily Hank was close and caught him when he threatened to fall.

 

"Maybe," Charles said, unwilling to offer false hope.

 

"Why did he enter my mind? Jean told me about his mental abilities, but I doubt he ever received adequate training. Wasn't it dangerous?" Scott pushed his pain back in to the recesses of his mind and forced himself to concentrate on Charles and Remy. As long as he didn't think of Jean the pain was bearable. So that's why I'm feeling better. He took away my depression and now he's stuck inside the negative feelings. What do I do?

 

"Scott? Why don't you talk to Remy? Convince him that we're here to help?" Charles whispered his next words. "But you should know that his self-esteem is very low right now. He doubts we really care about him."

 

Scott nodded his head once, understanding what Remy was going through. Until some hours ago, he had felt worthless and useless. "I'll try, sir." With Hank's support, he managed to walk over to Remy and accepted the chair Hank placed next to the exam table. After sitting down, he sighed, relieved to be off his feet.

 

Remy's eyes were tightly shut and his right hand clawed the blanket. The long auburn locks hid part of his features, but failed to conceal the paleness of his skin. Why had Remy taken such a risk? Why enter his mind and take away his depression?

 

"Remy? Can you hear me?" Scott finally decided on a game plan and pulled his chair closer to the exam table. "Remy? We need to talk. You took away my depression and now you're feeling guilty and miserable. You're confusing my emotions with yours."

 

A soft moan escaped Remy's lips and it was the only sign that the Cajun had actually heard his words. Now that he had a goal to focus on, some of his old determination returned. Remy had tried to help him and was now paying the price. That was completely unacceptable. "Remy, damn it, listen to me! Don't you dare pull this on me! Open your eyes and pay attention!"

 

Remy's eyes flashed open and Scott cringed, seeing the unshed tears in them. "What the hell did you think you were doing, following me in and taking away my depression? Correct me if I'm wrong, but you have no idea how to handle these emotions, do you?"

 

"De professor asked for my help..." Remy whispered, dazedly. He should have known that Scott wouldn't want him to screw around with his feelings. "'m sorry," he apologized.

 

Scott shook his head. "Sir, I can't believe you did that." Searching Charles' eyes, he realized how worried the professor must have been to ask Remy to help.

 

"I didn't have a choice," Charles said defensively. "You wouldn't let me in and Remy's an empath. Who knows how long you would have stayed in that state if it hadn't been for Remy's interference."

 

Scott understood Charles' motives, but didn't approve of his methods. "And now what? How do we help Remy?"

 

"Don' worry 'bout me," Remy mumbled, barely audible. "Concentrate on healin'." I don' deserve deir attention... made too many mistakes in my life.

 

Scott's jaw grew firm. "Of course we worry about you! We'll find a way to help you. The professor mentioned lowering your shields so the depression has a way out. Why won't you do that?"

 

"Why should I? It's betta dis way, trust me." Remy closed his eyes again and tried to pull the blanket over his face, trying to hide from their inquisitive eyes.

 

Charles frowned. "Reasoning with Remy won't get us anywhere. He's no longer thinking rationally." But the problem was that he couldn't force Remy to let go of the dark guilt. Remy's defenses were too strong and kept him out.

 

Scott slumped back in the chair. "Now what?"

 

Charles shook his head. I really don't know.

 

"Scott... you need to lie down and rest." Hank helped Scott back to his feet and guided him back to the exam table, where his patient lay down. "You shouldn't be on your feet yet."

 

Scott obeyed; fighting Hank was useless. But he didn't plan on falling asleep again. Judging from the look in Remy's eyes, the Cajun was desperate and there was no way of knowing what Remy's next move might be. What if the Cajun was becoming suicidal? "Someone should stay close to Remy at all times," he suggested.

 

Charles agreed. "Henry, keep a close eye on Remy."

 

Hank nodded his head. Remy was still hooked up to a monitor that was recording his vital signs; Remy would set off an alarm if he tried to remove the electrodes. Charles started for the doorway and Hank raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

 

Charles sensed Hank's curiosity and reacted to it. I need to think about this. But that was only a half-truth. He couldn't believe himself that he was actually considering contacting Sinister to help him deal with Remy's depression. Sinister helped Remy before... Contacting Sinister and enlisting the scientist's help could be dangerous, but he didn't have an alternative. Remy's mind was fragile right now and the young man could snap at any moment.

 

Scott stared at Remy's back once more; wishing the Cajun would turn around so he could read Remy's facial expressions. This is bad. Not only did he absorb my guilt, now he has managed to isolate himself, much like I did. I can't allow this to happen. Jean, I could really use your advice. What do I do now? How can I help him? But only silence answered him now that Jean's presence was gone. He was on his own... and being alone frightened him. 

 

///

 

Remy's empathy told him that this was the moment he had been waiting for. Hank had fallen asleep behind his computer and Scott was dozing as well. With a shaky hand he removed the electrodes from his forehead and reached to shut off the alarm that was about to wake them. Now that the immediate danger was gone, he pushed himself into a sitting position and managed to put his feet on the floor. His first steps were unsure, but when he didn't fall, he sped up.

 

It took him a few minutes to cover the distance to the door. After leaving the lab, he turned right and walked down the corridor, occasionally using the wall to support himself. I've got to leave dis place...

 

Remy's thieving skills allowed him to reach the front door unnoticed and he shivered as the cold air found a way beneath his shirt. He should have taken a coat with him, but wait, why? He wasn't going to fight any more. He should have given in years ago and now he had better get things right. This time he was going to do it right and die.

 

Adrenaline was now rushing through his veins and it enabled him to duck the security cameras and to head for the gate. Once outside he would try to hitch a hike.

 

After slipping past the mansion security system he found himself on the main road. Several cars were passing by. Maybe one of them would stop and take him away from Westchester?

 

Sweat appeared on his brow and his heart was beating wildly in his chest. Hank would lecture him if McCoy ever got him into the lab again, but he didn't plan on ever going back to the mansion. He wasn't worthy of being an X-Man. It was time to move on.

 

He raised his thumb, hoping one of the cars would stop, but the drivers seemingly ignored him. After several minutes, Remy leaned against the trunk of a tree, realizing he had been deluding himself. He looked sick and no one wanted a sick passenger in his or her car.

 

Suddenly, he dropped to his knees as a sharp pain slashed through his head. His alarms were trying to warn him of the approaching danger, but the beginnings of a fever was making it hard for him to concentrate on the presence his empathy was picking up. Escaping the lab had exhausted him and he slid down the trunk, lacking the power to stay on his feet any longer.

 

Mon Dieu... not 'gain... de violence, de hate... I know him, not Creed! Not 'gain! Can' deal wit' him now, can' fight him off... His eyes were drooping shut, but he managed one look at the approaching predator. It was Creed all right. Remy shivered, seeing the mad gleam in the man's eyes. Leave me 'lone!

 

Creed almost flinched as Remy's voice unexpectedly penetrated his mind. "Not this time, Cajun. Ya won't scare me off this time... Stay outta my mind, ya hear me, LeBeau?" Creed came to a stop in front of Remy and grinned, seeing Remy squirm against the tree. The Cajun was trying to crawl away from him, but the tree blocked his escape route.

 

"No tricks, or yer dead, Cajun." Creed brought up his claws in front of Remy's face and allowed one sharp nail to draw blood when caressing the Cajun's face. Perfect timin', he complimented himself. He's completely helpless.

 

The adrenaline was wearing off and Remy shuddered as Creed drew blood. Mon Dieu, what had he gotten himself into now? He lacked the strength to put up a fight, but he refused to surrender to Creed. "Kill me, Creed. End it. You know you wanna kill me..." Maybe Creed would end his misery. Maybe if he provoked the man?

 

But Creed didn't give him a chance to try another game plan. Suddenly Creed's fist connected with his chin, knocking him out. Just before he lost consciousness, he thought, Mon Dieu, please let him kill me... Then darkness enveloped him.

 

Creed slung his prize over his shoulder and walked away from the road. He had built a shelter close by and he planned on taking Remy there. Then, after he had shown the Cajun who was in charge, he would use the telepath to help him control his animalistic urges. Remy would serve him in that capacity until he died...

 

///

 

Hank slowly opened his eyes, yawned and stretched his body. It had never been his intention to fall asleep, but the last hours events had worn him down as well. He rose from his chair, intent on checking on his patients, but froze. Remy's bed was empty! Damn!

 

Hank quickly accessed the com system and contacted the professor. "Sir, we've got a problem. Remy's managed to sneak out of the lab."

 

Charles, who had been up most of the night trying to contact Sinister, sat upright in his bed. "I'm on my way, Henry." He was already slipping into his hoverchair.

 

"Do you want me to alert the rest of the team?"

 

"Henry, call Warren and Bobby to the lab." Charles briefly considered including Logan as well. There was a chance that Creed was still roaming the grounds. "And contact Logan as well. I'll join you in the lab in ten."

 

"I'm already on it, sir." Hank terminated the connection to Charles' room and alerted Warren, Bobby and Logan, telling them to hurry and to come to the lab ASAP. In the meantime, Scott had begun to stir and was waking up. Hank quickly joined his patient and helped Scott sit upright.

 

"Hank, what's going on?" Scott had only heard Charles' last words, but his instincts were telling him something was wrong. Looking to his right, he expected to see Remy, but the exam table was empty. "Where's Gambit?"

 

Hank was about to answer Scott when Bobby and Logan entered the lab.

 

"Blue, what's the emergency?" Logan sniffled the air, trying to pick up on alien scents, but found none.

 

"Remy's gone," Hank said, helping Scott to his feet.

 

"And that's bad 'cause...?" Logan wished he knew what was going on. However, it was good to see Scott moving about again. Losing Jean had ripped his heart in two as well, but he hadn't shared a telepathic connection with her and he couldn't imagine how hard losing Jean was on Scott.

 

"Because Remy's not acting rationally." Charles joined them and made eye contact with Logan. "In order to pull Scott back Remy absorbed his feelings of guilt as well as his pain. Remy's severely depressed, probably even suicidal and we've got to find him."

 

Warren, who was flying toward them, landed and looked Charles in the eyes. "You want us to find him?"

 

"Yes, and be careful. Remy might try to harm himself. Don't give him a reason to panic." The change in Warren surprised Charles. The dislike Warren had displayed when it came to Remy seemed gone. Was that just because Remy had brought Scott back?

 

"Anything else we need to know, sir?" Bobby asked, seeing the thoughtful look in Charles' eyes.

 

"Yes," Charles started, then focused on Logan, "Creed might be close. He attacked Remy and I two nights ago. You'd better be careful."

 

"Creed? The bastard's here?" Logan bared his teeth. "If he's still close, I'll find the stinkin' bastard." Eager to leave, he headed for the doorway. "Are ya comin'?" He didn't wait for the others to join him. Creed was out there and it was time to make sure the bastard never hurt anyone he cared about again. Fighting Creed would also offer him a perfect outlet for his rage and pain. Killing Creed wouldn't bring Jean back, but at least his rage would serve a real purpose.

 

///

 

Jerking back to consciousness, Remy's eyes flashed open. Darkness surrounded him, but luckily his eyes provided him with perfect vision. Creed had obviously carried him off to some sort of cave. His hands were tied behind his back and Creed had tied his feet as well, leaving him no mobility at all. Fortunately, Creed had forgotten to blindfold him.

 

Maybe he could use his charging power to blow up the rope and free himself, but when he concentrated on building the kinetic charge, nothing happened. Terrified, he identified the weight around his neck. Merde, Creed had collared him!

 

His panic began to build, realizing he was completely defenseless. Mon Dieu, I'm not 'fraid to die, mais why couldn' he end it quickly? Does he wanna play games 'fore killin' me? What are his plans? It made sense that Creed wanted to prolong his suffering to get even with him. After all, this time Sinister wasn't around to fight him off.

 

What do I do now? I can' contact anyone, can' move... and no one's lookin' for me anyway. Who am I tryin' to fool? It ain' like de X-Men will come for me. Dey didn' come back for me in Antarctica and dey won' come for me now. I'm on my own...

 

The cold permeated his clothes and he shivered, sitting on the damp soil. When would Creed be back? The prospect of being at Creed's mercy made him nauseous. Creed undoubtedly knew many ways to make him suffer before ending his life. Oui, I wanna die, mais not dis way!

 

///

 

It didn't take Logan long to pick up Creed's scent. His claws popped from his knuckles and his anger kept building. If he kept this up, he would go feral eventually, but he didn't care; he needed to get the anger out of his system. "He's close," he warned his teammates. Scott was scouting ahead and Hank was sneaking through the bushes to his right. Bobby covered the left flank and Warren was keeping an eye on them from the sky.

 

Warren whispered into his microphone, "Logan, someone's headed your way."

 

Logan nodded his head, acknowledging the message. "Creed's mine," he mumbled into the mic. "Ya guys concentrate on findin' the Cajun." He removed the headset; it would only hamper him during battle. He sneaked closer, smelling Creed. Logan quickly turned around when Creed appeared behind him. "Yer gonna die, Creed."

 

"Promises..." Creed hissed and attacked. They had ruined his plans and had forced him to leave Remy behind in his shelter. Now he had to take them out first before he could 'train' the Cajun.

 

///

 

"Hank? Anything?" Warren coordinated their attack, having the best overall view.

 

"What happened to Logan?" They needed Logan's senses to lead them to Remy.

 

"Creed and Logan are fighting." Warren forced himself to concentrate on finding Gambit. Logan could handle Creed and wouldn't want them to interfere.

 

"And now what? How are we gonna find Remy?" Bobby changed into ice form and created an ice slide.

 

"Professor?" Scott hoped Charles was picking up on Remy's thoughts.

 

"Remy's thoughts are distorted... it's like his powers are gone... he's probably wearing a collar. I'm receiving the image of a cave... he's tied, hand and foot. Look for a cave." Charles wished he had an exact location, but Remy's thoughts were barely traceable.

 

Warren, Hank and Bobby, who had heard the professor as well, scanned for a cave.

 

"I've got something," Warren announced excitedly. "Scott, it's to your right. Bushes cover the entrance, but it definitely looks like a cave."

 

"I'm on it," Scott replied and headed for the cave. Now that he was close, he saw the entrance as well and he pulled away the branches that hide the cave from view. "Remy? Are you in here?"

 

Remy's head jerked up. Was he only imagining things or had he really heard Scott's voice? But what would Scott be doing here? "Cyke?"

 

Scott immediately identified Remy's voice and contacted his teammates. "I've found him," he whispered into the microphone. He distinctly heard Charles' relieved sigh.

 

"Then bring him home, Scott." A deep sigh escaped Charles' lips.

 

Scott moved deeper into the cave and smiled as Remy's eyes lit up in the darkness. "It's okay, Remy, we've found you."

 

Remy stared at Scott in disbelief. Why is he here? Did he really come for me? Why? I deserve to die for what I did to de Morlocks. But Scott was moving closer and now sat on his heels in front of him.

 

"Remy, did Creed hurt you?"

 

"I'm wearin' a collar," Remy whispered, surprised at how raw his voice sounded. "Tied me up as well... Cyke, what are you doin' here?"

 

The words caused Scott pain. "Did you really think we would desert you again?" The disbelief in Remy's eyes answered his question. "Yes, you did..."

 

Bobby entered the cave as well and joined them. "Hey, Remy, are you okay?"

 

Bobby? Bobby was here as well? Remy pinched his eyes half shut as the headache returned, tormenting him. Suddenly, his stomach rebelled and he doubled over. 

 

Scott quickly reached out and steadied Remy as the younger man began to throw up. Smoothing back the long locks he waited for the bout of retching to end. "Bobby, freeze the collar and the ropes."

 

Bobby reached out and froze the rope and the collar, which shattered from the cold. "You're free again, Remy."

 

Tears appeared in his eyes and blurred his vision, but Remy still managed a 'Merci'. Lifting his eyes, he noticed Hank's arrival as well. "What are you doin' here?"

 

Scott cringed at hearing the disbelief in Remy's voice. "We're here to take you home, Remy."

 

"Home? Where's home?" Remy blinked his eyes, still feeling nauseous. "I..." He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence, passing out and collapsing against Scott.

 

"We'd better take him back to the lab," Scott decided, then noticed Logan was still missing. "Bobby, find Logan and help him. Warren, I need you to fly Remy back to the mansion; it's the fastest way. Hank, start for the mansion now." He figured that being jostled around in Hank's arms would only worsen Remy's condition. Remy would be far more comfortable in Warren's arms.

 

Hank nodded his head and hurried away, his long, agile limbs making it easy to move through the bushes and trees. He would probably reach the mansion before Warren did.

 

Warren felt oddly shy when Scott placed Remy in his arms. Surprised, he noticed just how much weight Remy must have lost for him to be able to carry the Cajun that easily. "Why don't you notify the professor that I'll arrive in five minutes?"

 

Scott nodded once. "Just hurry. I don't think Remy was supposed to be on his feet yet."

 

Warren left the cave, spread his wings and took to the sky.

 

Bobby created another ice slide and went in search of Logan. Scott stayed behind, needing a moment to deal with the expression that had shone from Remy's eyes. The young Cajun had really believed no one would come for him! "Damn it!"

 

///

 

Charles watched Remy sleep. Hank had hooked his patient back up to the monitors and was running several tests on him. The lab had buzzed with people after Remy had arrived. Scott, Warren, Bobby and Logan had been concerned and had wanted to know how Remy was doing. In the end, Charles had sent them away; fearing the turmoil would upset Remy.

 

"What do I do now?" Charles sighed. Remy had refused his help and he was at the end of his rope.

 

Tell McCoy to leave the lab.

 

What? Who? Charles' head jerked back at hearing the unexpected mind voice. Looking about he realized he was still alone, but then... who had addressed him?

 

Tell McCoy to leave... otherwise I can't help him.

 

Sinister! A few hours ago he had used Cerebro to contact Sinister, but had failed. Sinister hadn't reacted to the message. Why had the scientist changed his mind?

 

"Henry? Why don't you get us something to eat?" Charles hated playing Hank like this, but Sinister was Remy's only chance. Maybe Sinister knew how to help the empath.

 

"Of course, sir," Hank said and rose from behind his computer. "Anything in particular that you want me to fetch?"

 

"Some sandwiches will do." Charles waited until Hank had left the lab and then focused his thoughts again. We're alone... He froze, surprised, when Sinister materialized in the center of the room. How had Sinister managed to get past the mansion's security system?

 

Sinister scanned his surroundings and headed for his son. "What did you do to him?" Cold rage sounded in his voice. He still didn't understand why Remy chose to stay with the X-Men who had only ever hurt him. Probing his son's mind, he was surprised to find the gaping darkness.

 

"Remy took away Scott's depression, but refuses to lower his shields to offer it a way out. He refuses my help... That's why I contacted you. You're his father and maybe you know of a way..." Charles' voice trailed off, seeing the anger in Sinister's eyes. How come he's experiencing emotions? Didn't Apocalypse take them away? How can Sinister be angry?

 

"You hurt my son." Sinister's red eyes glowed diabolically. "I should have stopped him when he told me he wanted to return to Westchester."

 

"It was Remy's idea to absorb Scott's depression. I didn't force him."

 

"He's an empath. You should have known he'd do something like that! And you call yourself a teacher? A mentor?" Sinister turned away from Charles and focused on Remy again. "Don't interrupt me."

 

Charles backed away from them, knowing he had failed Remy. Hopefully Sinister would be able to reach his son. He wanted to ask Sinister so many questions, but then kept in mind that the scientist had told him not to interrupt.

 

Sinister took in his son's haggard appearance and reached out telepathically, trying to determine the extent of the damage done to Remy. He found that Charles was right; all Remy had to do was to lower his shields and then the depression would have a way out. But Remy refused to listen to Xavier and he wouldn't follow his advice either; Remy only trusted one person unconditionally. 

 

Charles sucked in his breath, seeing Sinister morph into Jean-Luc LeBeau. He recognized the Cajun from pictures Remy kept in his room. Sinister's morphing powers impressed him and the man's cunning almost frightened him. Sinister used all means necessary to achieve his goals.

 

"Remy? Mon fils? Wake up and listen to me." Again, he felt thankful that he had studied the Patriarch of the Thieves Guild, knowing the information would come in handy one day. Now he could effortlessly slip into Jean-Luc's hide.

 

"Poppa?" Remy slowly opened his eyes, recognizing the familiar voice. "Poppa? What are you doin' here?" He struggled to sit upright.

 

"You got yourself into trouble 'gain, petit. Why won' you listen to de professor?" Sinister played his role perfectly. Gently, he pushed back some stray locks and looked Remy in the eyes. "You have to lower your shields to let de bad feelings out, mon fils. I don' want you to suffer like dis."

 

"De professor told you 'bout Scott?" Remy managed a weak smile, thrilled to find his father at his bed.

 

"Oui, he did, petit. Mais now you have to listen to him. Lower your shields, Remy. Trust your poppa." Sinister clutched Remy's hands in his, hoping his son was still too weak and too confused to feel his mental probing. "Lower your shields and let go."

 

Fascinated, Charles watched Remy comply. The younger man lowered his shields and Remy panted softly as the dark feelings and thoughts fled his mind. His gaze traveled from Remy to Sinister and seeing the compassion in the scientist's eyes surprised him. Did Sinister really care about Remy?

 

"Did I do bien?" Remy asked in a tiny tone. His eyes were closing again, and he was slipping into a healing sleep now that the darkness had left his mind.

 

"You did great, petit. I'm proud of you." Sinister helped Remy lie down and pulled the blankets back up to his son's chin. "Now you can sleep, Remy. Everyt'in's bien."

 

"Merci, poppa... merci for bein' dere for me..." Remy smiled contently and closed his eyes, surrendering to sleep.

 

Sinister took a step away from Remy, trying to control his emotions. His emotions? Sinister paused, realizing his affection for his son was growing, but that was impossible! He didn't posses the ability to care, to feel! Bloody empathy! Morphing back, he met Charles' surprised eyes. "Take better care of him or I'll be back. Remy's precious to me and I won't allow you to hurt him again. Teach him what he needs to know, but don't you dare place him in danger ever again!"

 

A tesseract appeared behind Sinister and he walked toward it, not giving Xavier a chance to answer.

 

Charles massaged his temples, relieved that the tesseract was closing behind Sinister, swallowing the scientist. He had witnessed something extraordinary.

 

///

 

Sinister! Sinister coaxed Remy into lowering his shields. What the hell's going on?

 

He moved out of the shadows and fled the lab, still trying to make sense of the scene he had just witnessed.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter 7

Healing

 

"Professor? How's Remy doing?" Curiosity and concern had gotten the better of him and Scott had sneaked back into Hank's lab. Charles' head jerked up; the professor must have been lost in thought not to detect his presence. Was Remy's condition that bad?

 

"Sir?" Scott tried not to act too obvious when he looked past Charles, trying to gauge Remy's condition. The Cajun was asleep and looked unharmed.

 

"Remy will make a full recovery," Charles said reassuringly. "Creed didn't have the time to inflict any damage. A few hours ago Remy finally lowered his shields so that his depression had a way out. He'll be on his feet again shortly."

 

"I'm glad to hear that..." Scott moved closer to the professor and together they walked over to Remy, who was blissfully unaware of their presence. His features were peaceful in sleep and the blankets kept him warm. Remy looked comfortable and content, which put most of Scott's worries to rest.

 

Charles recognized the worried expression on Scott's face and asked, "What's troubling you?"

 

"Except Jean's death?" Scott immediately regretted his bitter reply. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just hard, you know? Living without her?"

 

"We never talked about this in private, Scott." Charles' gaze traveled from Remy to Scott. "How are you coping with losing her? Is there anything I can do to help?"

 

Scott's embittered laugh matched his prior bitter tone. "I doubt there's anyone who can help me deal with losing Jean to the Phoenix... I'll never love again. Jean was the other half of my soul and without her... I feel empty, sir."

 

Charles nodded emphatically. "It's only normal to feel like that, but Scott, life does goes on. I know it sounds harsh... I have lost people I cared for and I know how hard it is to keep going, but you don't have a choice. Your friends want to see you heal..." Charles heard Scott's intake of breath and quickly finished. "And although you feel like you have nothing left to live for, things will change, will get better, but the pain, the loss, they will always stay with you."

 

Scott looked away, unable to meet Charles' eyes right now. "I can't stay at the mansion, sir."

 

Charles' raised an eyebrow. "Why not? They want to help and comfort you."

 

"I can't bear seeing the pity in their eyes," Scott revealed in an unguarded moment. "It's the way they look at me... I don't want them to pity me... I want them to treat me normally..." But everyone stopped talking the moment he entered a room and then shot him awkward glances. "I know they're trying to deal with Jean's death as well, but..."

 

Charles understood. "Maybe you should move to the boathouse until we get a grip on the situation? Everyone's trying to cope with Jean's death and maybe you need some privacy to mourn properly?"

 

"But Remy's already living at the boathouse and I don't want to impose..." Scott's expression became thoughtful, then worried. "He moved out there to escape the hostility some of the team members feel toward him. It wouldn't be fair if I dragged my pain and guilt into his mind again. Remy doesn't know how to deal with such fierce emotions, does he?"

 

Charles shook his head. "No, he doesn't, but Remy's learning."

 

"It just wouldn't be fair to drag him into this. He needs his privacy too." Scott frowned. "Maybe I should leave Westchester for a while."

 

"Non, please don'..." Remy's eyes flashed open and met Scott's. "Believe me, mon ami, shuttin' everyone out ain' de answer. De feelings need a way out." He had given himself away, revealing that he wasn't really asleep, just pretending, but that didn't matter. Assuring Scott that he was welcome did. "Dere's a spare bedroom at the boathouse... we can work somet'in' out."

 

Scott shook his head. "You were awake all this time and overheard our conversation?"

 

"Not all de time," Remy corrected Scott. "Mais I heard most of it, oui." Remy nervously licked his lips. "Cyke, you're welcome at de boathouse. You don' have to leave Westchester. If it makes you feel more comfortable I'll move back to de mansion so you can be 'lone at de boathouse."

 

Scott sensed the honesty in Remy's words and felt tempted to accept the offer. The truth was that he didn't want to be completely alone and Remy's eyes showed no pity, only compassion. "Okay, I'll move into the boathouse... and please stay, don't move back to the mansion."

 

"Bien, merci, Scott." Remy's eyes closed again as he dozed off. The little stunt he had pulled earlier had exhausted him. Running away from the mansion had turned out to be a disastrous plan and now he had to rest in order to regain his strength, but he already felt better now that the depression was gone.

 

"He's asleep again," Charles whispered and then glanced at Scott. "You made the right decision."

 

"You think so?" Scott still sounded unconvinced.

 

"Yes..." Charles carefully weighed his next words. "Loneliness can drive an empath insane. He needs your company as much as you need his."

 

That thought had crossed Scott's mind as well, but he had chosen to ignore it. But it was the truth. A telepath, and to an even larger extent an empath, needed human contact in order to stay grounded. Maybe if he fortified his defenses his feelings wouldn't cause Remy pain. If he noticed that Remy was suffering because of him, he would leave anyway.

 

"I'm going to pack my things, sir. When do you think Remy will be able to leave?" He planned on taking Remy back to the boathouse with him when he left.

 

"A few hours," Hank said. He had overheard their last words. "But he'll need to take things slowly for the next few days."

 

Scott nodded his head. He would make sure they both got some much-needed rest.

 

///

 

Remy sat upright on the exam table. His feet dangled several inches above the floor and he was watching Hank, who had just finished evaluating his last test. "So mon ami, am I 'kay to go?" He hated being confined to the lab; it brought back memories of Sinister operating on him.

 

Hank gave Remy a long, hard look. "Physically, you are fine, but mentally you're still recovering from the unexpected use of your empathic abilities. I suggest you learn how to control your powers first, before plunging into the deep again. Drawing in Scott's depression could have had serious consequences, even worse than what you experienced this time."

 

Remy ventured a weak smile. "You care, Henri... don' try to deny it." That realization made him feel warm inside. "Didn' know you cared..." After Antarctica, he had begun doubting they had ever cared about him.

 

"Of course I care," Hank said, indignant. Reaching behind him, he presented a warm sweater to Remy. "Here, you might need this. It's growing cold outside and Scott will arrive to pick you up in ten minutes."

 

Remy gracefully accepted the sweater and slipped into it. A few things still bothered him. One was Jean-Luc's unexpected visit and his mysterious disappearance. Why hadn't Jean-Luc stayed a little longer so that they could talk? Maybe he should call Jean-Luc later and ask him that very question. For now, he forced himself to focus on more urgent matters. "I wanna help Scott..." he mused aloud, uncertain what he really wanted to say. "What do I do?"

 

Hank sighed. "I do not know, my Acadian friend. Pushing Scott into talking about his feelings might cause him to keep everything bottled up inside." Hank then grinned. "I'm sure your empathy will tell you how best to proceed."

 

Remy lowered his eyes. Discussing his empathy made him uncomfortable. "Don' plan on usin' it on Scott ever 'gain."

 

Hank frowned. "And why's that?"

 

"Don' wanna invade his privacy, mon ami. He didn' want me in his mind dat first time and I ain' makin' de same mistake twice."

 

Hank carefully chose his next words. "Scott will need your support and your willing ear. Your empathy can help you determine his needs and it can help him heal."

 

"Not crossin' dat line ever 'gain, Henri. Scott didn' want me in his mind." Remy shook his head and his jaw set firmly. "Not reachin' out 'gain." He had learned his lesson.

 

"I think you're making a mistake, Remy," Hank said, sincerely. But you have to figure that out for yourself.

 

"Hey, Remy, are you ready to go?" Scott entered the lab, carrying a duffel bag. He was putting up a brave front, determined not to show how lost he really felt. He missed Jean's presence in his mind and he felt cold and empty. The loneliness was tearing him apart.

 

"Oui, je suis ready," Remy mumbled. He jumped off the exam table and sucked in his breath when vertigo unexpectedly overwhelmed him. After taking a few deep breaths, he felt better and the room stopped spinning around him. "Let's go."

 

Hank watched them leave, hoping they figured out how badly they needed each other. And how greatly they can benefit from reaching out to one another.

 

///

 

Scott drove the jeep to the boathouse, then put it into park and got out. Remy followed, moving slowly. He's probably still recovering. The professor said Remy needs rest. But he felt listless himself and lacked the energy to address the issue. As Remy headed for the master bedroom, Scott turned left and entered the smaller bedroom opposite Remy's room.

 

I'm glad Jean and I never stayed in this room. I couldn't stand being in here, remembering we slept in this room, in this bed. It's better this way. He flung his duffel bag onto the bed and then sat down. Letting himself fall backward, he sighed and stared at the ceiling. Jean, why? Why did the Phoenix take you away from me?

 

That question would stay unanswered forever, and Scott tried to accept that fact, but it was hard not knowing the reason why the Phoenix had finally consumed Jean. I want her back... want to feel her in my mind... I'm so lonely...

 

A sharp knock on the door startled him and Scott quickly sat upright. "Yes?"

 

"I'm gonna make dinner... wanna help?" Remy held his breath. No matter how strong Scott's shields were he was still receiving the other man's pain and he couldn't bear the thought of Scott hurting. "You can even pick de dish..."

 

Scott stared at his reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall. He looked too pale and even the visor couldn't hide his pained expression. Dinner... he wasn't hungry at all. "I think I'll pass, Remy, but thanks anyway."

 

Remy recognized the tactic; he had used it himself to keep people at a distance. That was why he knew how to counteract it. "Bien, den I won' cook. Ain' gonna cook jus' for myself and eat 'lone."

 

Scott immediately felt guilty. Remy had clearly lost weight these last few weeks and skipping dinner was a bad idea. "Okay, I'll help."

 

Remy's smile was forced, knowing only too well that he had manipulated Scott. "Is pasta bien?" He wasn't a particularly good cook, but he knew how to prepare pasta Alfredo.

 

"That's just fine," Scott said, resigned, and rose to his feet. Remy's retreating footfalls told him that the Cajun was already on his way to the kitchen and he waited another minute before opening the door. He needed that moment to compose himself, reminding himself that Remy was an empath. He probably felt my loneliness and this is just an attempt to lure me out of the room. Resigned, Scott descended the stairs and joined Remy in the kitchen. The Cajun was already boiling some water and chopping the vegetables. "What can I do?"

 

"Set de table?" Remy kept his eyes locked on the tomatoes. Meeting Scott's gaze now meant giving away his feelings. Scott's pain was strong and depressing him as well. He had to distract Scott, keep him busy. Maybe that would work.

 

Scott was setting the table, absentmindedly placing glasses, plates and utensils on the table. When had been the last time Jean and he had spent some time here? About a year ago. It felt awkward, being back here without her. Fortunately Remy was here to keep him from going insane. Hank had been right. They did need each other's company. "Is this okay?"

 

Remy looked up from stirring the sauce and nodded his head. "C'est bien, Cyke. Dinner will be ready in five."

 

Scott sat down at the table and watched Remy, wondering if his emotions were causing the Cajun pain. He almost asked, but kept quiet instead, as he wasn't sure he wanted to learn the answer. If Remy's answer was positive, he would have to leave the boathouse to ensure the Cajun's emotional balance, but the problem was that he didn't want to leave. Against all odds, he felt comfortable with having Remy close. 

 

Remy felt uncomfortable as the silence continued. He desperately tried to think of something to say but came up empty. In the end, he placed the pasta on the table and after serving Scott and himself, he picked at the food.

 

Scott wasn’t hungry at all, but managed a few bites out of courtesy; after all, Remy had prepared this meal for him. "Tastes great, Remy."

 

"Merci." Remy forced himself to take a bite and swallowed the pasta. "I've got some wine as well. Want some?"

 

Scott shook his head. "No, thanks." Although he had never resorted to drinking before, he didn't want to risk embracing the oblivion alcohol provided.

 

Remy grew silent again and pushed the practically full plate away. He tightened his shields, wishing he had stronger defenses. For some reason Scott's emotions were still leaking into his mind. The silence became oppressive and Remy began to clean up the dishes. Scott was still staring into his glass of water.

 

Eventually, the tension became too much and Remy barely kept from fleeing the room. "Sorry, Cyke, mais I'm kinda tired. Gonna catch some shuteye. Will wake you in de mornin' for breakfast, 'kay?"

 

Startled from his musings, Scott quickly nodded his head. "Sounds just fine. I'm tired too."

 

Both men started for the doorway. Scott climbed the stairs first and quickly closed the door behind him, releasing a tormented sigh. He just couldn't pretend everything was fine when he felt dead inside.

 

After throwing his duffel bag on the floor, he stretched out on the bed. He grew cold and slipped beneath the covers, not bothering to undress. Hopefully sleep would come quickly.

 

///

 

Remy slipped into a shirt and sweat pants and cursed his trembling fingers. Really have to work on my shields... Won' last long dis way.

 

Remy lay down and pulled the comforter up to his chin. Shivers ran down his spine and he decided to leave a light on. Sleeping in the dark didn't appeal to him tonight. The dark hid shadows from his past, which still held the power to terrify him.

 

Scott's pain battered against his shields and they finally gave in, allowing the pain and guilt inside. "Non," he whispered brokenly. "Need stronger shields... can' do dis!" He fought his panic, and bit his bottom lip until it bled. As suddenly as it had begun, the panic attack stopped. "Mon Dieu, he's fallen 'sleep." Dreams weren't as strong as thoughts and his shields were solid enough to keep them outside. Won' be able to sleep tonight... not while feelin' like dis. 

 

After tossing and turning for one hour, he gave up and settled for reading a book. He wouldn't find any sleep tonight.

 

///

 

"I give up," Remy mumbled softly. Scott's dreams were harder to lock out than he had thought. Dark, cold images continued to batter against his shields, making him nauseous. He had to stop the hurting, had to do something to escape the pain. After pushing back the covers, he left his bed and walked over to the doorway.

 

Wavering, he crossed the corridor and opened the door to Scott's room. As if by magic, his eyes were drawn to the sleeping man. Scott was moving about in bed, almost thrashing as the nightmares continued to torment him. The roar of the Phoenix echoed in Scott's mind and Remy leaned against the wall for support as the roar swept through his mind as well.

 

"Jean? Jean, where are you? Why can't I find you?" Scott was mumbling in his sleep, arms moving without direction. "Need you..."

 

Remy swallowed hard. Now that Scott was asleep, the trauma was surfacing again. Mon Dieu, I had dreams like dem after Belle died... and den 'gain after Benjamin and Dave died... He knew exactly what Scott was going through.

 

After making his way to Scott's bed, he sat down, watching the other man squirm.

 

"Please? I'm so alone... need you."

 

For one moment Remy pretended Scott was reaching for him and not Jean. The next moment he hated himself for thinking it. Have to suppress my feelings for him. Can' feel dis way right now... it's wrong!

 

He was startled when Scott unexpectedly reached for him. Scott's right hand clawed the fabric of his sweat pants and Remy involuntarily held his breath. Scott moved in the bed, rolling toward him and before he realized what was happening, Scott's head was resting in his lap. Scott's right hand had a tight grip on his leg and his left curled itself around his waist. Shocked, he realized that he was trapped. He couldn’t free himself without waking Scott in the process.

 

Scott would undoubtedly feel embarrassed for clinging to him like this so Remy decided not to wake the other man. Now what? Remy rested his back against the headboard and tried to get as comfortable as possible. It looked like he was stuck here for quite some time.

 

Unintended, his fingers tangled in Scott's hair and he fingered a lock. He had never allowed himself to fantasize about having Scott this close, but things had changed. Jean was dead and Scott needed his comfort. Took me a long time to accept Jean-Luc's touch, mais when I did I began to heal... Touch was important, but Scott had never indicated he wanted to be touched in whatever way so he had kept his distance... until now.

 

Scott snuggled up to him and Remy held his breath. Was Scott under the impression that Jean was close or was Scott content with being close to him? Why was Scott reacting like this? He probably t'inks Jean's close... alt'ough I can' understand how he could confuse me wit' her.

 

Scott was now peacefully asleep. The nightmares had ended and he was resting comfortably. There was no way he could shatter Scott's rest by leaving the bed. Scott needed to sleep and so did he. He should try to asleep as well. Maybe he would manage to fall asleep now that Scott was at peace.

 

He shifted slightly, finding a more comfortable position, then pulled the comforter close. It now covered Scott up to his chin and Remy felt warm as well; Scott's body heat was keeping him warm. Closing his eyes, he tried hard not to think about Scott's possible reactions when the other man woke up in the morning.

 

///

 

The first thing Scott became aware of when he woke up was how warm and comfortable he felt. Last night bad dreams had tormented him, but now even the memory seemed vague and non-threatening. What had changed?

 

Slowly, Scott opened his eyes. He immediately recognized his surroundings; he was at the boathouse, staying with Remy.

 

Huh? What? The rhythmic movement beneath him puzzled him. When he looked down, he realized he was resting against something warm, no make that someone warm. Turning his head, he looked up and startled, realizing he was lying very close to Remy. The Cajun was sitting upright in bed and somehow he had managed to snuggle up to the other man during the night. His head rested in Remy's lap and his hands were curled around the Cajun's waist and knee, tightly holding on. Remy never had a chance to free himself.

 

Carefully, he tried to untangle himself, but Remy moaned softly, protesting the movement and he froze. Now what? Moving cautiously, he managed to pull his hand away from beneath Remy's knee. But his other arm was still wrapped around Remy's waist. I pulled him close during the night... but what's he doing here in the first place? Why is he sleeping in my bed? I'm sure I went to bed alone.

 

Sometime during the night the nightmares had ended; was that because Remy had come to his room to comfort him? Had he accepted that comfort in his sleep? Shit, this is embarrassing. He probably sensed my nightmares and came here to calm me down. From the way I was clinging to him, I grabbed hold of him and never let go again.

 

Embarrassed, Scott closed his eyes again. How would Remy react when the Cajun woke up? Would Remy think less of him because he had succumbed to the nightmares? This is the Phoenix' fault. Why did she have to take Jean away from me? Jean would know how to react in a situation like this.

 

Scott sucked in his breath when Remy stirred. The young Cajun was trying to find a more comfortable position. Sneaking a glance at him, Scott found that the red on black eyes were opening.

 

///

 

Remy struggled for breath when Scott's discomfort hit him. Mon Dieu, I fell 'sleep... it's mornin' and Scott's 'wake... I should apologize and give him back his privacy. Come on, say somet'in', Remy! He was upset himself; having Scott this close was something he had always wanted to happen, but it felt so wrong. Scott was only here because he was mourning Jean's death.

 

His mental powers told him that Scott was awake and that he was being watched from behind the ruby glasses. Remy cleared his throat and decided to apologize right here and now. "Sorry, Cyke, didn' wanna fall 'sleep, mais I was tired too." He had better leave now.

 

"Wait," Scott said, placing his hand on Remy's arm to prevent the other man from leaving. "What happened last night?"

 

Remy blinked his eyes in surprise. He hadn't expected Scott to want to discuss this. "You had nightmares and I tried to help."

 

"The nightmares stopped," Scott recalled. "I'm sorry for ending up sprawled all over you." Suddenly he realized that he was still clutching Remy's waist and he quickly let go, sitting up in bed.

 

Remy blushed. "C'est bien. I needed poppa close too after..." He stopped just in time, determined never to reveal his short stay on the streets. Scott would lose the little respect he had for him.

 

Scott raised a puzzled eyebrow, realizing just how little he knew about Remy. "You sound like you know what I'm going through."

 

"I do... kinda," Remy added hesitantly. "My wife died in my arms years ago."

 

Scott sat cross-legged and continued to stare at Remy. "Your wife?" He hadn't known Remy had been married!

 

"Belle died in my arms. De Brood killed her."

 

"Belle?" Scott cocked his head. "Why didn't you ever tell us? When did this happen?"

 

Remy really didn't feel up to answering Scott's questions, but he gave in, sensing the other man's genuine interest. "Happened five years ago... I never told anyone 'cause no one ever asked."

 

Scott swallowed hard. My God, had they shown so little interest in the Cajun? "I'm sorry she died."

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "She's 'live 'gain."

 

Scott was agape, revealing his surprise. "What?"

 

Remy didn't know how much he could reveal to Scott about the Guilds' ways. "Magic potion," he whispered eventually.

 

"Then why aren't you with her?" Growing cold, Scott wrapped the comforter around himself.

 

"Can' go back home. I'm banished. N'awlins is off limits to me..." Thoughtfully, he added, "The handfastin' was only for five years and dey’re passed now. Belle's free 'gain..."

 

"I can't believe you never told us," Scott whispered, guiltily. "I can't believe we never asked."

 

Silence descended on the room and both men were busy sorting out their own thoughts when professor's Xavier's mind voice suddenly swept through their minds. Scott? I need you to come to the mansion. There's something I need to show you.

 

Sir, I don't want to return to the mansion just yet. Scott exchanged a glance with Remy, whose facial expression revealed his surprise at hearing Charles' mind voice unexpectedly. He had been a little startled himself.

 

Scott, trust me. This is important. I promise you that you won't run into the others, but you really have to come to the mansion right now.

 

Scott nodded once. I'm on my way, sir. He had never before defied one of Charles' orders and he reacted instinctively, trusting Charles to act in his best interest.

 

We need to use Cerebro... Charles mused.

 

I'll be with you in ten; Scott promised and then got to his feet. Looking over his shoulder, he noticed the lost expression on Remy's face. The Cajun had just revealed part of his past to him and now he was running out on him. "We'll talk later, okay?"

 

"Sure," Remy said, trying to appear unfazed. "You go see de professor and mebbe we can have brunch after you get back?"

 

"Sounds like a plan." Scott entered the bathroom and splashed some water in his face. Behind him, he heard Remy's retreating footsteps as the Cajun returned to his own room. I wonder why he opened up to me...

 

Scott changed into some clean clothes and left his room, wondering why the professor needed to talk to him so urgently.

 

///

 

Charles wrung his hands, feeling nervous now that Scott could arrive any moment. When he had contacted Scott telepathically he had acted instinctively, without thinking it over thoroughly. Now he wondered if he should have handled the situation differently.

 

"Sir?" Scott entered the room and sought out Charles' eyes, which were draped.

 

"Come with me..." Charles guided Scott toward Cerebro and gestured him closer. "Two nights ago I used Cerebro and... suddenly a program came online. I think you should look at it. I'll leave you alone now."

 

Scott wanted to ask Charles what was going on, but the older man had already left the room. "What the hell's going on?"

 

Suddenly Cerebro projected a hologram on the wall and Scott took a step back, startled at seeing Jean in front of him. "What? Jean?"

 

"Scott, sweetie... I'm so sorry. I hoped you'd never see this message." Jean's shape flickered and Cerebro stabilized the image. "I'm sorry to leave you behind. I don't know how I died, but I'm sorry I left you..."

 

Tears dripped from beneath the ruby glasses and Scott reached out, trying to touch the hologram, but his hand passed right through it. "Not real," he reminded himself.

 

"It feels strange, recording this message, knowing you will see it once I'm dead, but I need to tell you something."

 

Scott sobbed, hearing Jean's voice again. He had never thought he would ever hear it again! "Why, Jean, why?" Watching the hologram caused him pain. Jean was standing in front of him and yet he couldn't touch her. She wasn't real; she was only a hologram. He constantly had to remind himself of that.

 

"Scott, I love you, sweetie... I'll always love you. I know you're hurting badly because I'm gone. The telepathic link was broken when I died and I hope you are unharmed. I never wanted to hurt you, but the link... it's so strong." Jean paused. "I recorded this message the day after Remy returned. I felt the need to do this because his disappearance and his return reminded me of how fragile life can be. I want to tell you how much I love you. I can't imagine that I would ever leave you willingly, so someone or something took me away from you."

 

Scott felt paralyzed. Had Jean known something bad was going to happen to her? Or was this just coincidence?

 

"I know you're hurting, sweetie, asking yourself why I left you, but Scott, you have to move on. You have friends and you owe it to me as well as to them to be the best you can. The team needs you." Jean obviously hesitated, licked her lips, but then carried on. "And it's okay to love again, Scott. I don't want you to mourn my death for the rest of your life. You deserve to find love again. Don't deny yourself that because you feel you have to stay faithful to me. Scott, I'm sure... I know for a fact, that someone out there loves you, will grow to love you as much as I do... did. Damn, this is harder than I thought." Jean's voice cracked.

 

Scott let his tears freely flow. "I'll never love again as long as I'll live," he vowed passionately.

 

"I know you love me, Scott, but I'm dead and you're alive. Don't isolate yourself. Let the others comfort you. I know you, Scott. You'll push them away and try to deal with my death on your own. It won't work!" Jean's watering eyes stared into a void. "I can't see you right now, but you can see me. Listen to me, Scott, don't bury yourself in self-pity. I won't let you!"

 

Scott finally managed a weak smile.

 

"I'd better end this message now or I'll burst out in tears... Scott, I love you, sweetie... You made me happy and I know there's someone out there who can make you happy in return. Don't hang onto the past, to my death. Move on. Please, Scott... promise me you'll move on."

 

"I can't," Scott whispered brokenly. Then the image flickered and faded. The hologram was gone and Scott felt extremely distressed. "Jean, how can you think I could ever love someone else? I only love you! No one else, only you!" Scott dropped to his knees and wildly shook his head. "I'll never love again!"

 

///

 

Charles, who had been waiting outside, entered the room and reached for Scott. "Scott?" He managed to pull Scott to his feet, and as he stared into the tear filled eyes, he saw his own pain reflected there. "I loved her as well, but she's gone, Scott. Jean's right. You have to move on."

 

"How? How can I move on when I’ve lost the only person I ever loved?" Scott wiped away his tears. "How can she ask me to love again? No one can take her place."

 

"She knows that no one can take her place, that isn't what she was trying to say. She wants you to know that it's okay if you ever fall in love again. She wants you to be happy and now that she's gone she hopes someone else will love you the way she did."

 

"No one can love me the way she did," Scott said, stubbornly. Suddenly, he felt tired and drained. He started for the doorway, intent on returning to the boathouse and lying down to lose himself in sleep and oblivion.

 

"Scott?" Scott's distress was obvious and Charles wondered if he shouldn't stay close instead.

 

"I'm going back to the boathouse," Scott announced. "I need to work through this."

 

Charles nodded his head. Remy was at the boathouse and the Cajun would keep a close eye on Scott. Watching Scott leave, he hoped the younger man would one day truly understand what Jean had been trying to tell him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Chapter 8

Alone again

 

"Not again!" Scott sighed, waking up from another deep and dreamless sleep. Next to him was Remy, the Cajun's back resting against the headboard. This is deja vu. I woke up like this yesterday as well. I had nightmares again last night and this time about the hologram Cerebro projected. Remy must have come inside to comfort me.

 

His head rested in Remy's lap once more and this time he had wrapped both arms around the other man's waist, trapping Remy. I wonder how long this will continue? How much longer will Remy comfort me? He'll grow tired of it in the end. I should leave Westchester; maybe travel, but I shouldn't stay here. My presence is causing him pain. He might not admit it, but the fact that he's here is proof enough.

 

Scott looked up and found that Remy was still sound asleep. Dark circles disfigured his eyes and Scott felt guilty, knowing he was the reason why Remy wasn't getting enough sleep.

 

Slowly, he tried to pull back, but the movement caused Remy to stir. The red on black eyes flashed open and Remy quickly scanned his surroundings, searching for any possible threat. "I did it again, didn't I?" Scott released Remy's waist and sat upright, distancing himself again.

 

Remy quickly composed himself. When he had woken up, he had been disorientated, but then he had remembered where he was; the boathouse. "De nightmares returned," he offered apologetically. "Dey kept me from fallin' 'sleep."

 

"Apparently they go away when you're close," Scott summarized, feeling surprised. Why's that? Focusing inward, he tried to identify the feelings he was experiencing now. I don't feel alone. I feel Remy at the edges of my mind. Remy's presence made the void in his mind more bearable. Oh, Jean...

 

Remy blinked his eyes and stretched carefully. His lower back was hurting after being forced to sleep in this uncomfortable position. Carefully, he avoided looked at Scott and disentangled himself from the comforter. After rising to his feet, he started for the door. "Am gonna fix breakfast."

 

Scott nodded once. "I'll take a quick shower and then join you." Remy closed the door behind him and Scott released a strangled sigh. "Damn, I did it again! Why can't I control my feelings? I don't want to rob him of his sleep." When he had agreed to move into the boathouse he hadn't fully understood just how sensitive the empath was. His feelings were constantly battering against Remy's shields... "Maybe the professor can help me control them."

 

Although he had slept well last night, Thanks to Remy's presence, he still felt tired and emotionally drained. He forced himself to leave the bed and to head for the bathroom. If it had been up to him, he wouldn't have left his bed all day long, hiding there. But Remy wouldn't allow it, would kick his butt if necessary and Scott managed a weak smile. In that one aspect he surely reminds me of Jean. She didn't take any crap either.

 

As Scott stripped and turned on the shower, a sense of peace descended on him. Jean would have been proud of the way Remy was handling everything.

 

///

 

When Scott returned to the boathouse later that day, he found it empty. He had spent the last few hours in Charles' company. The professor had helped him strengthen his shields, but he had blocked every attempt the older man had made to discuss his feelings. He wasn't ready yet to talk to Charles about Jean. The pain was still private, his own. No one else was entitled to share it with him.

 

The professor had escorted him back to the front door and the other X-Men had kept their distance, but he had seen the pity in Warren and Bobby’s eyes. Rogue's had been cold and he had overheard her question his decision to stay at the boathouse, claiming Remy was trying to turn him against her. Did she really think that the world revolved about her? Scott shook his head at the memory. He had simply ignored her comments.

 

Logan's injuries, which he had contracted in his fight with Creed, had completely healed. The Canadian had been oddly silent, just watching him enter and leave the mansion. He's had a crush on Jean for years... this is hard on him too, Scott realized.

 

But where was Remy? Looking about, Scott frowned. The boathouse was deserted and he hoped Remy hadn't left the premises. Creed was probably still out there. Logan was very secretive about his fight with Creed, but they had learned the hard way that it was nearly impossible to kill Creed.

 

He wondered about Remy's sudden departure. The Cajun hadn't told him he would be leaving as well. What if Creed had found a way to get to Remy? No, there were no signs of struggle, everything was in its place. Still, he didn't feel comfortable not knowing where Remy was.

 

It's been snowing for some hours now, Scott mused. The snowfall had started shortly after he had left for the mansion. If he was lucky he could trace Remy's footprints in the snow and they would lead him to the Cajun.

 

He picked up the coat he had just shed, shrugged into it and left the boathouse again. Once outside, he scanned the blanket of snow, cursing the fact that it was still snowing and the falling snowflakes were now covering up Remy's tracks. But, looking carefully, he found more footprints and assuming they were Remy's, he followed them.

 

They led him to a deserted chapel at the outskirts of the mansion grounds. Once a week a priest checked on the chapel and then left again. The chapel hardly had any visitors; no one knew its whereabouts, except Remy apparently.

 

Scott shook off the snow that had settled onto his coat and then opened the door. Only the dim sunlight lit the inside of the chapel and Scott's gaze was drawn toward the small altar. Virgin Mary was looking down the aisle from her pedestal and a few candles were burning at her feet. He found Remy kneeling in front of the statue, staring into the candles.

 

Maybe he should leave. Remy seemed lost in thought and the Cajun probably wanted some privacy. He turned to leave, but then his left foot hit a wooden bench. The sound echoed through the chapel and Remy jumped to his feet. His bo staff appeared in his right hand, ready to fight off a possible attacker. Scott hesitantly turned to face Remy and was shocked to see tears flowing down the younger man's face. "Remy?" Scott stood his ground, shivering as Remy's eyes pierced his soul. Feeling guilty for intruding, he started for the door again, but Remy's voice stopped him.

 

"Non, stay."

 

Scott stopped in his tracks, turned around and looked into Remy's eyes. The next move was up to Remy.

 

///

 

Shocked, Remy averted his eyes. "Why are you here? How did you find me?" He hadn't counted on Scott tracking him down; what reason could Scott have for coming after him? "Did somet'in' happen to de team?"

 

"The team's fine," Scott assured him. "I followed your tracks in the snow because I got worried when I returned to the boathouse and you weren't there..."

 

Remy sat down on a wooden bench and watched the flames dance. He had lighted three candles so far. He sucked in his breath as Scott walked up to him and sat down beside him.

 

"What are you doing here, Remy?" His curiosity had gotten the better of him.

 

"Lightin' candles," Remy whispered. Feeling the wetness on his face, he quickly wiped away his tears. He hadn't been aware of the fact that he was crying. When had that happened? Embarrassed, he wondered if Scott thought any less of him after seeing him cry.

 

"I can see that, but why are you lighting candles?" Scott sounded as puzzled as he felt.

 

"I come here every year..." Remy drew in a deep breath. He didn't want to burden Scott with the losses in his life and hoped the other man would change the subject.

 

"Every year?" Surprised, Scott counted the candles. There were three of them. Remy had been with the team for four years now and he had never noticed the Cajun sneaking off to the chapel? "And we never noticed."

 

"Don' feel bad 'bout dat," Remy said, smiling sadly. "I made sure you never noticed."

 

"So why the candles?" Scott tried to catch Remy's eyes, but the Cajun was staring blindly into the candles, tears still simmering in the depths of his glowing orbs.

 

"One candle for every person I lost," Remy mumbled, absentmindedly, almost drowning in memories.

 

"Who did you lose?" Suddenly it was very important to Scott to find out, to make up for the disinterest he had displayed all these years. He knew so very little about Remy and it made him feel guilty. Maybe he could still make up for his mistakes.

 

Remy laughed bitterly. "You'd betta not ask."

 

"I want to know... please?" Although Remy was reluctant to discuss this, Scott was determined to push it. It was time he took an interest in the Cajun, something that he should have done years ago.

 

Remy swallowed hard. "Do you really want to know?" Discussing something this private made him uncomfortable and he didn't want to add to Scott's misery.

 

"Yes, I really want to know." Remy's hand was twitching and Scott suddenly felt bad for pushing Remy, but something told him the Cajun needed to talk about this. Remy had offered him comfort since Jean's death and it was only fair he returned the favor. "Please tell me."

 

Remy caved in. For years he had kept this inside and the only person who had offered to listen was Xavier, but the professor wasn't here right now, but Scott was. "Bien," he whispered, giving up his resistance. "De first's for my mot'er... she died when I was born. I never met her." Should have said, she was murdered when I was born, mais I don' wanna tell him 'bout Sinister's involvement.

 

Scott bit his bottom lip. "I never knew that." He felt like a heel for never talking to Remy about this past. He had interviewed all the other members of the team, why not Remy?

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders, determined not to give Scott too much information.

 

"And the second candle?" Scott suddenly realized how bad this could get. Remy had probably never discussed this with anyone and being an empath, his emotions might overwhelm the Cajun.

 

"Philippe," Remy whispered, pushing back memories, but one stood out; regaining consciousness and finding Philippe dying. Although Philippe had tried to sell his virginity he had long ago forgiven him.

 

"Who's Philippe?" Scott had the uncanny feeling that Remy was hiding a lot from him, only telling him parts of his past.

 

"I was nine when I met Philippe..." Remy stopped himself from telling Scott everything. Can' do dat. Don' wanna lose de li'l respect he has for me... Scott can never find out 'bout me bein' a whore. I'll take dat secret to de grave.

 

"Yes?" Scott hoped Remy would continue, but the Cajun remained silent. Okay, I'm getting the message and I won't go there. "What about the third candle?"

 

"Belle... alt'ough she's 'live, she died... she ain' de femme she used to be. Deat' changed her and I ain' sure it was for de betta." Remy shivered. He knew what the Elixir had done to Julian, and wondered how it had affected Belle. I'll probably never find out... Belle's in N'Awlins and I can never go back dere.

 

Scott watched as Remy picked up two more candles and his face contorted, realizing there was more to come. Scott wondered if he should stop now, give Remy back his privacy to mourn the ones he had lost, but...

 

"Dese are for Benjamin and Dave," Remy whispered as he lit the candles.

 

"Who are Benjamin and Dave?" The two candles joined the other three and Scott watched as more tears made their way down Remy's face. The Cajun quickly wiped them away, but it was too late, he had already seen them.

 

"For a few days dey were my family," Remy murmured, barely audible. "Dey taught me to trust 'gain, mais dey died as well."

 

"They died at the same time or...?"

 

Remy nodded his head once and decided to tell Scott the truth. Was Scott homophobic? He would find out. "Dey were lovers."

 

Scott never expected that one. "And you knew them because...?"

 

"Creed had slashed me open in de Morlock tunnels and Dave found me, he was a cop. Benjamin was my doctor and when dey realized I was 'lone dey offered to take me in while I was healin'. De day dey died was one of de worst in my life."

 

"How did they die?"

 

"Dey were murdered," Remy revealed in a shaky tone. Taking hold of another candle he placed it alongside the others. "Dis one's for my fat'er..."

 

Scott frowned. "I thought Jean-Luc LeBeau was still alive..."

 

"Jean-Luc adopted me. He ain' my real fat'er." He was treading on dangerous grounds and should shut up, but...

 

"Your real father is dead then?"

 

"His soul is," Remy remarked cryptically. As far as he was concerned Sinister was dead to him. The scientist had killed his mother and only kept him alive because of his DNA.

 

His soul is? What kind of answer is that? Scott wavered, wanting to ask more questions, but he simply stared at the candles. There were now six of them.

 

"You wanna light one?" Remy offered Scott a candle.

 

"Maybe I should," Scott mumbled. "For Jean... I should light a candle for Jean."

 

Remy nodded approvingly. "It helps to pick a day to remember dem. Makes you feel closer to de ones you’ve lost. Keepin' it all inside don' work, trust me, been dere, done dat. You've got to acknowledge dem, acknowledge de pain. It ain' easy, mais it keeps me sane. Mebbe it will work for you as well."

 

Scott lit the candle and placed it next to Remy's. "What do you do? Say a prayer for them?"

 

"I ain' dat religious," Remy admitted hesitantly. "Poppa taught me de words, mais... I ain' sure I still believe... mais I like de peace and quiet here... it's bien for rememberin' dem."

 

Scott sat quietly, understanding the wisdom in Remy's words. The Cajun had found a ritual that offered him some peace of mind and he had to admit that it was working for him as well. Being away from the mansion, the quiet managed to calm him. It was peaceful here and the flickering of the candles made him smile weakly. Jean would have approved of him remembering her in this way.

 

"Thank you, Remy," Scott whispered eventually. "It's working. Losing Jean still hurts, but... I like remembering her. It feels like giving her a place... like..." Why was it so hard to find the words? "I know she's dead... I'll never see her again... or hear her thoughts in my mind... but this way it feels like she's still close... a part of me... I'm explaining this poorly."

 

"I understand, mon ami... I do. It feels de same way for me. I'll never forget Benjamin and Dave, dey'll always be here..." Remy placed his right hand over his heart.

 

"They meant a lot to you, didn't they?" Scott wondered why.

 

"Oh, oui, more dan you can imagine..." Suddenly memories of Mike took him by surprise. At first, he was tempted to light a candle for Mike as well to remember a love that couldn't be, but Mike was alive and had found a new love. He had to let go, hoping Daniel would make Mike happy. A blush crept over his face as he remembered making love to Mike... It had been a divine experience and suddenly he felt glad he had never been that intimate with Rogue. There had never been real love between Rogue and he; it wouldn't have been making love. Mike taught me de difference between makin' love and fuckin'...

 

"Remy, I'm getting cold." Scott was shivering. The chapel wasn't heated and the cold was slowly permeating the building, sneaking into his bones. "Want to return to the boathouse?"

 

"C'est bien," Remy replied, watching the candles burn. He rose from the bench and started for the doorway. Scott followed him at a distance and Remy felt grateful that the other man was giving him a moment to compose himself. His eyes had finally dried and he felt like he could never cry again. He had shed all the tears he could cry.

 

///

 

After eating dinner in silence, they retreated to their rooms. Remy decided to take a long, hot bath and tried to relax as the warm water cradled his body... but it was starting again... Non, mon Dieu, not 'gain, not dis quickly!

 

Scott had fallen asleep and the nightmares were back to torment him. Remy pinched his eyes shut, trying to lock Scott out, but failed miserably. Scott's loneliness continued to call out to him and in the end he gave in. He stepped out of the bathtub and wrapped a towel around his wet hair. After drying his skin he walked into the bedroom and slipped into the sweatshirt and pants, which were waiting for him on his bed.

 

Soundlessly, he opened the door and walked into the corridor. What if Scott had locked his door tonight? Then he would be facing a sleepless night. Hesitantly, he tried the doorknob and sighed in relief as the door opened. Scott was on top of the comforter, still fully dressed. He was thrashing, tightly snared by the nightmares and completely unaware of his visitor.

 

Remy came to a standstill in front of Scott's bed and considered his options. I told Hank I would never 'gain use my empat'y on Scott. He didn' want me in his mind dat first time and I can' invade his mind 'gain, mais...

 

Scott moaned in pain, flung himself onto his right side and extended his arms, as if reaching for someone. For Jean of course... Undecided, he remained motionless, but then Scott's movements became even more frantic and the thrashing grew worse. He actually feared that Scott might fall from the bed and land hard on the floor. It urged him to take action.

 

Remy soundlessly approached Scott and sat down on the side of the bed. He felt guilty when he reached out empathically, trying to assure Scott that he wasn't alone. Only a few days ago he had promised to never use his empathy on Scott again and now he was doing something he truly loathed. These last nights his presence had been enough to calm Scott down, but not this time.

 

Scott's arm suddenly caught him around his middle and the other man began pulling him down until he settled on his side, facing Scott. Somehow Scott managed to tuck his head beneath his chin and then pulled him even closer. He had no way out. Scott was holding him tightly, protectively, and if he was honest with himself, he had to admit he loved being held like this.

 

Mais it's wrong. He's under de impression dat he's holdin' Jean... Briefly, he considered freeing himself, but when he tried to pull back, Scott reacted by tightening his hold. Dat ain' gonna work. He won' lemme go... now what? Don' really have a choice... have to spend de night here...

 

Resigned, he stopped attempting to free himself of Scott's embrace. A contented sigh escaped Scott's lips and Remy realized he was stuck here for another night.

 

///

 

Fuck... It happened again... Embarrassed, Scott stared at the sleeping man in his arms. He remembered being tortured by nightmares, featuring the Phoenix, and then the bad dreams had gone away. A warm presence had wrapped itself around his thoughts, assuring him he wasn't alone, offering comfort and support. That must have been Remy.

 

The nightmares had been particularly bad last night, probably prompted by remembering Jean as he had lit the candle. Jean, I need you! 

 

Scott wondered what to do next. Remy was still asleep and he couldn't untangle himself from the younger man without waking Remy. And he looks like he’s missed out on a lot of sleep lately. Have I been keeping him awake?

 

This was becoming awkward. These last nights he had only been able to sleep because Remy was close. Does that mean I'll wake up with him in my arms for the next few weeks, months? What if I move back to the mansion and he wants to stay here?

 

Scott closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He had to discuss this with Remy. It wasn't fair to the Cajun to pretend nothing had changed between them.

 

Remy moved about, yawned and slowly opened his eyes. Briefly, he felt disorientated and trapped. Strong arms were holding him tight and he flashed back to Hugo, holding him down. It took a lot out of him to calm down again, but he didn't want to worry Scott.

 

"Good morning, Remy," Scott said eventually, realizing it was up to him to address this.

 

"Mornin'," Remy stuttered, confused. Why was Scott still holding him? He expected Scott to jerk back once the other man realized their position.

 

"I had nightmares again, didn't I?" Scott loosened his hold on the Cajun, but didn't let go yet. Remy had seen him through the night and he didn't want to appear ungrateful by suddenly pulling away.

 

"Oui, dey were bad..." Remy suddenly felt silly talking to Scott's chest and pushed away from the other man until he was able to look at Scott's face. Merde, I hate de ruby glasses...

 

"Thank you," Scott whispered, surprised at seeing the expression in Remy's unguarded eyes. There was compassion, affection and something else, which he couldn't label. "But we have to talk about this, Remy."

 

Remy nodded his head once. "Want me to stay in my room from now on?"

 

Scott considered his answer carefully. "Will that work? Sleeping separately?"

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "I can' help you fight de nightmares from a distance. Doesn' work dat way. You'll have nightmares wit'out me bein' close and I won' be able to sleep 'cause your nightmares will keep me 'wake."

 

"That's what I figured..." Scott frowned. "That won't work, will it?"

 

"Don' t'ink so," Remy admitted, uncomfortably.

 

"But sleeping close will?" Scott finally admitted the truth to himself. To sleep undisturbed he needed Remy close.

 

"Oui." Remy averted his eyes and stared at the wall instead. He couldn't believe they were having this conversation.

 

"I can't sleep in the master bedroom, Remy, not yet. I stayed in that room with Jean and there are too many memories involved. Could you move in here?" Asking Remy to stay was easier than he had thought.

 

"What?" Remy's eyes grew big.

 

"I'm asking you to sleep in the same bed with me. We both need rest and..." Remy's startled expression alarmed him. "What's wrong?"

 

"I can'..." Remy unexpectedly sat upright and was about to flee the room, when Scott's hand settled on his arm, keeping him in place. "Last night I used my empat'y to calm you down. I know you don' want me in your mind, mais I'll do it 'gain if you allow me dis close."

 

So that's it... that's why I didn't feel alone last night. It makes sense, doesn't it? Jean lived in my mind for years and without her I feel empty, incomplete. Remy filled that void by connecting to me... Scott moistened his dry lips. "Remy? It's okay. I know you did it to comfort me. I'm not angry with you."

 

Remy felt terribly confused. "Are you sure you're bien wit' it?"

 

"Yes..." Scott sat upright as well and waited for to Remy look at him. "About my suggestion... I'll understand if you don't want to sleep close to me..."

 

"Non, I don' mind dat..." Remy bit his lower lip.

 

"We'll see what happens tonight, okay?" Scott placed his feet on the floor and rose from the bed. "I need a shower. I'll meet you downstairs in a few minutes..."

 

Remy nodded his head, got to his feet and returned to his bedroom. He collapsed on the bed and clutched his face between his hands. Had Scott really invited him to share the same bed? Stop it! It's only 'cause de nightmares leave him 'lone when I'm close. It ain' 'cause he wants me dere... he wants an empath dere...

 

Moving mechanically, he headed for the bathroom. A shower sounded pretty good to him too right now.

 

///

 

Remy was looking through the kitchen cupboards, wondering what to prepare for dinner. The day had passed quickly. Scott had left the boathouse to take a walk with the professor and Remy had spent most of the day reading and jogging. He was in a bad shape and it was time he started working out on a regular basis.

 

"We need to go grocery shoppin'," Remy sighed. "Can' make pasta 'gain!" He listened to Scott, who was channel surfing in the living room. Scott had a hard time relaxing and had already offered to continue teaching the younger students, but Charles had told him to take more time to mourn. Remy agreed with Charles. It was way too early for Scott to return to his normal routine. Maybe once the nightmares grew less.

 

Bored, Scott left the living area and joined Remy in the kitchen. The Cajun was searching the content of the fridge and didn't seem pleased. "What's for dinner?" He wasn't hungry, but realized that if he refused to eat, Remy would do the same.

 

Remy closed the refrigerator. "Don' know... we don' have dat many choices..." He turned around and glanced at Scott. The other man looked relaxed, but he still felt the unease in Scott's mind. Maybe it was the prospect of sleeping in the same bed tonight.

 

A knock on the front door interrupted their conversation. "I'm on it," Scott said and walked over to the doorway. Opening it, he smiled. "Warren, Bobby... and is that pizza?" Seeing them here surprised him.

 

Remy froze in his tracks. He could deal with Bobby's presence, but why was Warren here? He's probably here to check on Scott... mebbe I should disappear upstairs and give dem some privacy? Remy moved quickly and climbed the stairs. After closing the bedroom door behind him, he sat down on the bed. Tired, he lay down and stared at the ceiling. Oui, should give dem some privacy... Warren won' want me 'round...

 

He tightened his shields to the maximum and tried not to eavesdrop. Picking up his book, he rolled onto his left side and began to read. Although his stomach growled hungrily, he managed to ignore it.

 

///

 

Bobby walked over to the kitchen table and dropped off his pizzas. "Hope you're hungry... this was Warren's idea."

 

Scott looked at Warren. "This was your idea?"

 

"Yeah," Warren admitted. "Hank and Logan wanted to join us as well, but we didn't want to invade your home like that so we're taking turns. Hank and Logan will bring dinner tomorrow evening."

 

Scott sat down at the kitchen table. Smelling the pineapple on the pizzas made him aware how hungry he really was. He hadn't eaten since breakfast. "Thanks, I appreciate it." Scott opened one of the pizza boxes and smiled. "My favorite."

 

Bobby and Warren sat down as well and both started munching on a slice. "Hey, where's Remy?" Bobby looked about, but didn't see the Cajun anywhere.

 

Scott stopped eating. Damn, Remy had been here only moments ago! "I really don't know... I'll check upstairs." Scott rose and climbed the stairs. "Leave some pizza for Remy and I!"

 

"Will try," Bobby mumbled, without commitment. He exchanged a glance with Warren. "I saw him standing in the kitchen when we arrived. He fled upstairs."

 

"Why?" Warren frowned.

 

"Come on, Warren... don't play dumb. Remy knows you don't like him." Bobby would never shy back from telling his friend the truth. "He probably figured he wasn't welcome and left."

 

Warren sighed. He had reached that conclusion himself, but had hoped Bobby would come with a different explanation. "It's true," he admitted. "I never liked him, but he helped Scott when he was catatonic. Maybe we can get along now..."

 

Bobby smiled brilliantly, pleased with Warren's changed attitude. "You should tell him that."

 

"Maybe I will."

 

///

 

"Remy?" Scott knocked on the door and listened closely. "Remy? Can I come in?" He grew concerned when Remy didn't answer him. He didn't want to invade Remy's privacy, but this wasn't a healthy reaction. "Remy, I'm coming inside."

 

Scott opened the door and found Remy reading on his bed. "What's going on? Why didn't you stay?" He advanced on the Cajun and came to a standstill next to the bed. Scott cocked his head, trying to get a better look at Remy's face. Remy was shutting him out and he wasn't going to accept this.

 

Grabbing the book from Remy's hands, Scott went down on his heels so he was level with the Cajun. "Remy, tell me what's going on."

 

Briefly, Remy felt angry. Scott didn't have the right to grab his book like that! Now he no longer had a reason to ignore the other man. Sighing, he gave in. "Wanted to give you some privacy, what's wrong wit' dat?"

 

Scott studied Remy's facial expression and suddenly realized that he could sense Remy's emotions. Apparently, Remy couldn't control his empathy completely yet. His emotions were leaking now that the Cajun felt insecure. "Is it because of Warren? I know the two of you never got along."

 

Remy blinked his eyes. His shields were at maximum at yet he felt... sensed Scott. "Don' wanna intrude, mon ami. Dey're here to see you."

 

"Remy, come on, let's go. They brought pizza and I know you're hungry. I can hear your stomach rumbling." Scott extended his left hand in invitation. "Don't worry about Warren. I've known him for years and although he sometimes appears arrogant, he has a good heart." Scott held his breath as Remy made up his mind. "Come on, Remy, I'm not eating pizza without you," he said, using Remy's tactics against the Cajun.

 

Remy sighed. "You're playin' dirty, Cyke."

 

"Why don't you call me Scott? I never liked Cyke."

 

Remy mumbled an apology. "Sorry, didn' know dat..." Reluctantly, he rose from the bed and followed Scott downstairs. Seeing Warren at the kitchen table, he sat down as far away as possible from the other man.

 

"Here, they said this was pizza Cajun style," Bobby teased and pushed the still closed pizza box toward Remy.

 

"Merci," Remy replied shyly and opened the box. His stomach was giving him away, making loud noises. Slowly, he picked up one slice and took a bite out of it. "C'est bon."

 

Scott returned from the kitchen and put bottled water, soda and red wine on the table so everyone could pick their favorite drink. He settled for the bottled water, still weary to drink alcohol.

 

Bobby and Warren chose the red wine and Remy went for the bottled water as well. Scott hated the awkward silence that had descended on the room and tried to make small talk. "So Bobby, I guess you're responsible for the snowfall?"

 

"Ha! I wish I had that kind of influence on the weather! I can only freeze the water in your pipes, treating you to an icy cold shower!" Bobby sipped his beer and watched Warren, hoping his friend would make the first move.

 

Warren studied Remy in turn and tried to reconcile everything he knew about the Cajun with what had happened these last weeks. Finding out that Remy had worked for Sinister and had gathered the Marauders had infuriated him, but later he'd had time to think everything over. While talking to Bets, who fully condemned Remy for his so called 'crimes', he had realized that he didn't share her opinion. Remy had proven his loyalty to the X-Men over and over again and bringing Scott back from his catatonic state had only confirmed the Cajun's loyalty.

 

But then he had witnessed how Sinister had coaxed Remy into lowering his shields and his suspicion had returned. It was time to find out what was really going on.

 

"Remy, can we talk in private?" Warren asked, already pushing back his chair.

 

Remy almost dropped his bottled water and sought out Warren's eyes. Sensing Warren's conflicting emotions, he grew still. "Oui," he whispered, wishing he could go back to his room instead. But whatever Warren wanted to discuss, the other man wanted to talk about it privately so it was probably something bad.

 

Scott had noticed Remy's startled reaction and wanted to intervene when Bobby shook his head, indicating he should let Warren and Remy talk. Reluctantly, he watched them leave the kitchen. "Bobby, what's going on?"

 

Bobby leaned back. "I think Warren's coming around. Don't worry too much."

 

But Scott's skin was crawling with unease.

 

///

 

"Here." Warren handed Remy a parka and slipped into his own. Then he opened the front door and stepped onto the porch.

 

Remy draped the parka over his shoulders and reluctantly followed Warren. It had stopped snowing and the white blanket hurt his eyes. The full moon wasn't helping, adding to the snow's white intensity. "What?"

 

"I want to ask you something," Warren admitted, leaning against the wall and studying Remy's reactions closely.

 

Remy wished the earth would open up and swallow him. He really didn't want to do this. Warren hated his guts and this conversation wouldn't be pleasant. "What do you wanna know?"

 

"After you absorbed Scott's depression you felt depressed yourself. What happened? How did you get rid of that depression?" Warren was curious to find out what Remy was going to tell him. Would the Cajun lie? Mention Sinister?

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders, never expecting that one. What should he do? Answer the question or go back inside? Why was Warren doing this? What would Scott want him to do? "I don' know exactly what happened," he started, "it almost felt like a dream. Jean-Luc was dere, tellin' me everyt'in' would be bien and... I trusted him... and lowered my shields so de feelings had a way out. Den I fell 'sleep 'gain... I still need to call him... why didn' he stay longer to talk to me?" Remy, lost in thought, didn't notice Warren's expression.

 

"So your father talked you into letting go?" Warren's instincts told him the Cajun was telling him the truth. Remy didn't know what had happened after Sinister had stepped away from the exam table. The Cajun hadn't seen him morph back. Should he tell Remy what had really happened?

 

"Oui, Jean-Luc assured me everyt'in' was bien... mais why did he leave 'gain? He could have stayed until I woke 'gain..." Remy shivered. "I don' see him dat often, you know and..."

 

"There's something else I wanted to ask you," Warren said, deciding not to reveal the truth to Remy just yet. It wasn't his business anyway. "What's your connection with Sinister? Are you still working for him?" The startled expression on Remy's face told Warren enough. Remy was truly shocked that he would even think that!

 

"Non! I ain' workin' for him! Don' wanna see him ever 'gain! He ruined my life!" Remy pulled the parka closer around his form and lowered his eyes.

 

"How did you come into contact with him?" Warren reached the conclusion that Remy really didn't know that Sinister had helped him release Scott's depression. Sinister was obviously playing Remy, but why?

 

"My powers were outta control," Remy admitted, wondering why Warren wanted to know these things. Warren had judged him a long time ago and had never given him a second chance. "He operated on me... I was scared I was gonna blow myself up and take out innocents wit' me..."

 

"Why didn't you ask the professor for help?"

 

"Didn' know 'bout de professor. Stormy introduced me to him." Remy cringed, recalling their first meeting. How was it possible that he had lost Storm's friendship? I made too many mistakes.

 

Warren considered his next move. Remy had convinced him that the Cajun didn't know about Sinister's visit to the lab. Remy obviously didn't know what game Sinister was playing. I should give him the benefit of the doubt...

 

"Can we go back inside now? I'm cold..." Remy already started for the door, but suddenly Warren's hand came to rest on his shoulder and the gesture stopped him. With his back turned toward Warren, he waited for the other man to speak.

 

"What about a truce, Remy? We've never been friends and I don't think I'm ready to take that step yet, but we could stop distrusting one another." Bets would probably think he had lost his mind, but he didn't care. He made his own decisions; she didn't make them for him. It was time to take back his life. She had influenced him too much lately. "I don't want us to keep fighting."

 

Remy's eyes grew big. "A truce?" Slowly, he turned around and Warren removed his hand from his shoulder. "Are you sure?"

 

"Yeah," Warren said firmly. "Let's make a new start."

 

Remy tried to shake off his surprise. Warren was offering him a truce? "For Scott's sake?"

 

"Partly," Warren admitted. "But I made mistakes in the past as well and I want to correct them. During the trial, I... Eric the Red pushed all the right buttons and I refused to defend you after learning about your involvement with the Marauders. Maybe we can try again?"

 

Remy nodded his head. "I'd like dat."

 

Warren extended his hand. "Let's make a new start, okay?"

 

Entranced, Remy accepted the offered limb and shook it. "Oui, let's try."

 

///

 

Later that evening, Bobby and Warren said their good-byes and headed back to the mansion. Scott turned to look at Remy and felt content, seeing a peaceful expression in the alien eyes. After Warren and Remy had joined them again, the Cajun had been more relaxed. Learning about Warren's peace offering made him smile. But then that smile froze as he realized it was time to turn in for the night.

 

Scott walked over to Remy and helped him clean up the mess they had made during dinner. "Remy? About tonight..."

 

Remy didn't look up, but continued to stare at the pizza boxes. "Oui?"

 

"I'm going upstairs now..." He didn't know how to phrase the rest. "You're welcome to join me," he said eventually. To his surprise, Remy blushed fiercely.

 

"Mebbe," Remy whispered.

 

Scott nodded once and then climbed the stairs. In his room, he removed his clothes and put on sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt. After slipping between the covers, he stared at the door, hoping Remy would join him. Although he felt awkward about sleeping in the same bed with Remy, he realized it was the only solution to their problem.

 

Remy opened the door and stepped inside. He had already changed his clothes and now shuffled his feet, hesitant to approach the bed. Dis is wrong, should be in my own room, my own bed, not here!

 

Scott sensed Remy's unease as it slithered into his mind. Determinedly, he pushed back the covers, inviting Remy in.

 

Slowly, Remy lay down at a distance from Scott, making sure they weren't touching. "Night, Cy... Scott."

 

"Good night, Remy." He pulled the covers back into place and closed his eyes. Listening to Remy's breathing, he quickly fell asleep.

 

Remy however, stayed awake a little longer. He wasn't really surprised when the nightmares started again and after reaching out and reassuring Scott, the bad dreams faded away. Scott reached for him and pulled him close. Remy was lying on his left side, facing away from Scott and feeling the other man spooned up behind him made him tremble. Fighting back his rising panic, he concentrated on the relaxation techniques Mattie taught him years ago. Several minutes later, he managed to fall asleep as well.

 

///

 

The next morning, Scott opened his eyes and snuggled up to the warm body in front of him. It took him a moment to realize that he wasn't holding Jean, but Remy. But I slept extremely well last night... and he wasn't ready to face the nightmares again. Hopefully Remy would be willing to keep him company at night until he was strong enough to face his nightmares alone

 

///

 

One month later.

 

They had settled into a comfortable routine. Living at the boathouse had given them a chance to get to know each other and they had both been surprised to find they got along well. The nightmares were growing less frequent, and Scott was getting ready to move back to the mansion. Remy wasn't sure yet if he was ready to return to the mansion and had decided to stay at the boathouse a little longer.

 

Officially, he was back on the team, but he preferred to limit the contact to a minimum. He took part in missions again, but always felt the distrust in Storm, Betsy and Rogue's minds. Luckily, Scott always remained close and so far, there hadn't been any confrontations between the team members.

 

Now he was watching Scott pack and he was starting to feel cold and empty inside. He had become more dependent on Scott than he wanted to admit. The other man's presence had kept him from going insane, but now Scott was moving back to the mansion.

 

"Remy, are you sure you don't want to return to the mansion?" Scott was worried. They hadn't slept apart for a month now and there was no way of knowing how bad the nightmares would be now that he would be sleeping on his own again.

 

"I don' wanna go back jus' yet," Remy explained, as he leaned against the wall. "Storm hasn' forgiven me and I can' stand bein' close to Rogue right now..."

 

Scott nodded his head. Remy had told him how cold Rogue's thoughts were and he couldn't blame the Cajun for staying clear of her. But Storm was a problem he intended to deal with. She was currently the leader of the X-Men and a good team leader made sure all team members felt comfortable working with the others. Storm however, ignored Remy when he took part in a mission and only acknowledged his presence when absolutely necessary. He wasn't ready yet to lead the X-Men again, but he still felt the responsibility that went with the job. "Will you be okay here, alone?"

 

"Oui. Don' worry 'bout me, Scott." Remy had a hard time pretending that Scott’s moving out didn't faze him. In reality, he wanted Scott to remain close. He had grown used to Scott's presence and didn't want to be alone again. Sleeping alone would be particularly hard, as he had loved feeling Scott's arms around him at night. Mais it's time to let go. Scott's dealin' wit' Jean's death'. He doesn' need me any longer.

 

Scott finished packing and closed his duffel bag. Feeling shy, he didn't know what to say. He had gotten used to eating dinner with Remy, talking to him while watching TV and snuggling up to him at night. Now he was on his own again. "Let me know if you need to talk? I might be moving back to the mansion, but I'm not moving out of your life."

 

"Merci, Scott, mais I can manage," Remy said with a determination that was just a front. "You'd betta leave now. Dey're expectin’ you for dinner."

 

Scott walked toward Remy and he surprised both of them by giving the Cajun a hug. "I wish you'd move back to the mansion as well."

 

"Mebbe in a few weeks," Remy said, evasively. He was relieved when Scott released him. Sometimes the illusion he had built became too real. These last few weeks he had indulged himself, fantasizing that Scott had become his best friend and that maybe they could become more than friends. But he had been lying to himself.

 

He didn't follow Scott outside as the other man left. Shakily, he collapsed on the couch and petted a pillow. I'm 'lone 'gain... ain' dat de story of my life? Dey always leave me... Fighting his tears, he wondered if God would ever feel he had been punished enough for his past mistakes or if he would continue to pay for the rest of his life. Feeling miserable and lonely, he stared at the wall, wondering how he was going to cope all alone.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

TBC in Insanity.


	4. Insanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As months pass by the team settles back into their routine, but Creed's still lurking and plans on using Remy to control his urges. When Remy faces insanity, Scott begins to realize his attraction to the Cajun.

Chapter 1

Hugo

 

Remy stared out over the lake, wondering what was keeping him here. Scott had moved out of the boathouse six months before and was doing fine. At times, Scott flinched, especially when someone mentioned Jean's name, but Scott had apparently found a way to deal with Jean's death. He was back in charge of the X-Men and was once more leading the team on missions.

 

A divided team... t'ings will never be like dey were 'fore Antarctica. He stayed away from the mansion as much as possible, 'hiding' at the boathouse. Neither Charles nor Scott had succeeded in reuniting the two groups. Surprisingly enough one person had changed factions. Warren had given him a second chance, which had put the other man in a difficult position. As a result, Betsy and Warren had called it quits. Gotta give him credit. Ange's been tryin' since we talked. And in return, he was trying to be less distrustful of Warren.

 

"Hey, what are you doing out here?" Scott walked up to the Cajun and sat down on the grass. It was a beautiful day. The sun shone steadily, warming them, and a cool, refreshing breeze prevented the high temperature from becoming oppressive.

 

Remy didn't bother to look at Scott, knowing the other man felt at peace. His empathic powers told him that Scott had managed to give Jean a place in his heart and although she was dead, she would always live on in his soul. "Rien... jus' starin' at de water." He didn't feel up to small talk. This was one of those days when he felt melancholy and alone.

 

"Will you join us for dinner later? Bobby and Hank are preparing dinner."

 

Remy briefly considered accepting the offer, but... "Rogue and Storm... dey'll be dere too?"

 

Scott nodded once. "Remy, you can't continue avoiding them. You've got to set things straight, talk to them."

 

Remy's anger flared. Why am I 'ways de one in de wrong? Why is it always me who has to make amends? Dey made mistakes too, but Storm will never admit she was wrong and Rogue... she's only interested in puttin' me down, especially since Joe ended deir relationship. Wonder why he no longer wants her?

 

"Remy, are you still with me?" Scott frowned, worried. Lately, Remy had been retreating mentally, even to the point of isolating himself from the others. He still felt slightly guilty for moving out of the boathouse six months ago, but he hadn't had a choice. The team had needed a real leader. Although Storm had assumed leadership, she hadn’t had the right attitude to keep all team-members alive. "Remy?"

 

"I'm listenin', Scott... jus' tired..." He hadn't slept well these last few months. Although Scott and he had only slept in the same bed for a month, he missed the warm body, and the mind, which had always been close.

 

"Is something bothering you, Remy? You know you can talk to me." Scott hoped Remy would take the hint and opened up to him. "You helped me when I was feeling depressed, maybe I can do the same thing for you now?"

 

"You can' help, Cyke." When had Scott changed back into Cyke? Right after Scott had moved back to the mansion. No one could help him. He would never fit in and maybe he should give up on becoming a real member of the team. At times, he felt like the others only tolerated him because he had helped Scott. Oh, he knew he still had friends at the mansion, but the cold hatred that he felt when Rogue was around outweighed the warm, friendly feelings from the others.

 

Tightening his shields, he managed to lock out Scott's mental presence. Whenever Scott was around, it felt like they were somehow connected, but that was wishful thinking, being fed by his loneliness. It would have felt good to belong, so he pretended he belonged... with Scott. In his daydreams and nightly visions, Scott was always close to him. In his imagination, Scott hadn't moved out of the boathouse and in his dreams they were still sleeping in the same bed, curled up tightly against one another. But right now he couldn't pretend. "You'd best leave me 'lone, Cyke. I'm bad company."

 

Scott didn't like the direction this conversation was taking. He was determined to force Remy out of his depression. The professor said that Remy needs company, that an empath can go mad from loneliness. I allowed him to slip away. Hopefully it's not too late yet to rectify my mistake.

 

"Remy, why don't we go out for dinner? Just the two of us? That way we can catch up on recent events. We haven't talked, really talked, in a long time. Six months to be exact." He had never considered what effect his moving out would have on Remy. Maybe he should have stayed at the boathouse a little longer, until Remy had mentally recovered as well. He had been selfish, moving out like that. Once he had felt better, he had deserted the one who had helped him heal.

 

Remy blinked his eyes. "Don' know, Cyke..." Going out for dinner meant spending time with Scott. It meant paying attention and pretending he was coping. How long could he keep up the front that he was doing fine? He already felt tired; he was suffering from insomnia and he feared slipping back into his fantasies and alienating Scott.

 

"Come on, Remy. We're going to eat a bite. It's not like I'm asking you to fight Apocalypse." Scott wasn't going to give up easily. Remy's absentminded and haunted expression worried him.

 

Remy caved in, all resistance dwindling. Spending time with Scott did seem appealing and maybe he wouldn't feel so alone tonight. "Bien, we'll do dinner." Remy rose from the now cold and damp earth and wiped away the grass that clung to his jeans. "Do you wanna go someplace fancy? Do I have to change?"

 

"Depends on where you want to eat dinner. You pick the place." Scott allowed himself to smile, glad he had achieved this victory.

 

"Burger King?" Remy shrugged his shoulders. Food held no attraction at all. When had he eaten last? Had he even eaten breakfast? He didn't remember.

 

"You want greasy? I can do greasy," Scott teased, hoping to do away with the tension between them. That tension hadn't been there six months ago. Remy seemed unapproachable, unreachable and he hoped to connect with the Cajun again, like he had after Jean's death. "You're decent enough to go to Burger King," Scott continued to tease. "Let's take the car and find ourselves a Burger King restaurant." Scott rested his hand on Remy's arm, trying to comfort the Cajun, but the younger man jerked away from his touch. "Remy?" Scott tried to catch Remy's elusive eyes.

 

"Sorry," Remy offered apologetically. "I don' feel bien..."

 

The dark circles beneath his eyes had long given him away. Scott nodded his head. "Are you having trouble sleeping?" To his surprise, Remy moved further away from him, increasing the distance between them. What's going on? I know it's been six months since we really talked last, but... Damn, I've been neglecting him. I always thought I was better than the others who mistreated him, but I did the same thing.

 

"Don' really wanna discuss dat," Remy said evasively. Six months ago he would have told Scott about his insomnia, but the emotional bond had faded while they had been apart. He had let Scott inside once before and he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. It just showed that Scott was like the others. When they needed him, they used him and then they disposed of him. He was tired of being used; it had to stop.

 

"Remy, what happened?" Scott forced himself to address the issue. Pretending everything was fine between them wasn't going to work. "You helped me fight my nightmares, helped me sleep and now... where did these barriers come from?"

 

You left me... For a short while I hoped you'd stay. But he didn't speak the words. He felt honored that he had been the one to help Scott cope with Jean's death and he shouldn't be ungrateful. No one had ever needed him like that before and just remembering sleeping in the same bed with Scott made him feel warm inside. Pat'etic!

 

"Remy, are you still with me?" They had reached the garage and Scott walked over to the blue BMW parked near the exit. He opened the car door, sat down behind the steering wheel and keyed the ignition. It was a good thing that he kept the keys in the car at all times.

 

Remy moved slowly as he sat down on the passenger's seat. Being close to Scott, talking to the man, he felt oddly out of place. Was he dreaming again? When had he started having trouble telling reality from fantasy? He buckled up after Scott reminded him to put the seatbelt on and he stared out of the window as Scott set the car in motion. Within a few minutes they had left the mansion grounds. He flinched when they passed the spot where Creed had knocked him unconscious.

 

Scott saw Remy flinch and his jaw set firmly. Only six months ago I vowed to pay attention to what was happening to Remy and now... Remy shifted on his seat and Scott frowned. Has he lost that much weight? The jeans seem baggy and so does the shirt. But he couldn't say for sure. "So when will you move back to the mansion? It doesn't feel right, knowing you're all alone at the boathouse."

 

You could have stayed wit' me. No one forced you to move back to de mansion. The bitterness that bubbled up from deep within him surprised Remy. He hadn't known he resented Scott for leaving the boathouse. "Won' be movin' back anytime soon. Dis is best for everyone."

 

Displeased, Scott shook his head. "Are you sure? You know you’ve got friends there? Hank would love to see you move back and so would Logan and Bobby. Even Warren wouldn't mind." Hearing that Warren had left Betsy had surprised him, but he found himself applauding the decision. I doubt they really loved each other. They each used the other to show off. Maybe Warren will start reevaluating his priorities.

 

"Mebbe," Remy said, a hint of disbelief coloring his tone. Mais I doubt dey want me 'round fulltime. He resumed staring at the landscape that flashed by. "Why are you takin' me out for dinner, Cyke?" Remy's eyes grew big. Merde, had he really said that? He had only intended to think it! When will you learn to keep your big mout' shut?

 

A pang of guilt made Scott cringe. "I'm sorry that I've been so busy lately. I promised myself I’d stay in touch with you and instead our interaction has been limited to communicating during missions."

 

Hearing the obvious apology, Remy frowned. "Non, c'est bon. I can take care of myself. Have been doin' dat my entire life. You're doin' your job, Cyke." Inwardly torn, he wondered what he wanted. Did he want Scott close or not? It was easier to pretend when Scott wasn't around, but spending time with Scott made him feel alive. Feeling trapped, he peeked at Scott as the other man pulled in to the parking lot and put the car in to park.

 

"I hope you're hungry. I don't usually eat those greasy burgers, but when I indulge myself I go all the way and I want dessert as well." Scott opened the car door and drew in a deep breath of fresh air. When Remy stayed frozen in his seat, he walked over to the other side of the car, opened the door and smiled. "Are you joining me?"

 

Remy almost whispered 'no', but kept quiet instead. Scott was going through all this trouble to make him eat and the least he could do was be cooperative. Remy slid from his seat and fell into step beside Scott.

 

The awkward silence unnerved Scott; something was definitely wrong with Remy and he grew even more worried. Maybe he should spend some time with the Cajun. Maybe stay at the boathouse for a few days to make sure Remy finally got a decent night's sleep. There were no pressing matters to attend to and he could use a short break himself. How would Remy react when he told the Cajun about his plans?

 

They had reached the counter and a young lady, who was smiling brilliantly, asked for their order.

 

"What are you having?" Scott asked, while studying the menu. When had he eaten fast food last? Jean had never approved of fast food, but he enjoyed eating it occasionally.

 

Remy forced himself to check out the menu. The smell of the food was making him nauseous and he wasn't sure he would be able to keep the meal down, but he had to try, for Scott. He might as well choose something that would be easy on his stomach. "A Whopper, no mayo, French Fries, small, and a diet coke."

 

Scott realized that Remy had chosen the food items with the lowest calories. "Okay, I want..." Scott took a deep breath, secretly enjoying the prospect of indulging himself by eating all this grease. "Double whopper with cheese and mayo, French fries, king-size, onion rings, Sprite and Dutch apple pie." Oh, he was almost drooling, just stating his order.

 

"Hey, Cyke, you're addicted to grease?" The empath sensed Scott's obvious excitement.

 

Scott laughed as the girl began filling their orders. "This one's on me," he announced and paid for their orders. "Why don't you go find us a spot to sit down while I wait for our orders?"

 

"Sure, Cyke." Remy walked away from the counter and scanned the room for vacant seats. In the end, he found a nice secluded table at the back. Sitting down, he judged it safe to briefly remove his sunglasses; no one was watching him anyway. Massaging his temples, he hoped the beginning headache wouldn't grow worse. People's emotions were battering against his shields.

 

"Still tired?" Scott placed the tray on their table and handed Remy his order. He noticed the reluctance with which Remy picked at his food, only eating tiny bites of his burger. The French fries remained untouched and his own appetite was dwindling, seeing Remy poke at his food.

 

"Un peu," Remy admitted.

 

"You aren't particularly talkative tonight, huh?" Scott finished his whopper and sipped his Sprite. "Why don't you tell me what's going on? You look like hell."

 

"Merci for de compliment," Remy said sarcastically. "I don' wanna talk 'bout it."

 

"Not so long ago, someone told me that keeping it all inside didn't help, remember that? That person was you." Scott didn't mind fighting dirty and using Remy's words against him.

 

Remy bit his lower lip. "Don' push it, Cyke."

 

"Name's Scott. Why are you shutting me out, Remy?" Scott pushed the tray away from him and concentrated on Remy. "You're having trouble sleeping... is it nightmares?"

 

Remy shook his head. "Why won' you leave me 'lone?"

 

Remy's resistance surprised Scott. Why was the Cajun determined to lock him out? "Because I care." Remy's head jerked up, hearing those words. Bull's eye!

 

Remy licked his lips, wondering if he should confide in Scott or not. "Don' sleep at all."

 

"You're suffering from insomnia?" Scott felt surprised. "When was the last time you slept all through the night?" He feared hearing Remy's reply. His instincts told him he was somehow to blame for this.

 

"De last night you spent at de boathouse. I've been tossin' and turnin' ever since. I sometimes fall 'sleep for one, two hours, mais den I'm 'wake 'gain."

 

"And it's driving you insane," Scott realized. "You did sleep well when I was staying at the boathouse?" Remy's nod confirmed his suspicions. He did have something to do with Remy's insomnia. "Want me to spend the night at the boathouse tonight?" The look Remy gave him spoke of shock.

 

"What?" Remy stuttered.

 

"When I was trying to cope with Jean's death you kept the nightmares away. I want to return that favor. Maybe my presence will help you fall asleep and stay asleep."

 

Remy shivered. "Non."

 

"Why not?" Scott wasn't giving up yet.

 

"You live at de mansion now."

 

"I can pack some stuff and move back for a few days if it will help you sleep." Scott gathered the wrapping paper and boxes and placed them back on the tray, ready to be disposed of when they left the establishment. "Think about it, okay? Don't dismiss it yet." Scott got to his feet, picked up the tray and cleaned it off. He expected Remy to follow him, but when he turned around, he realized that the Cajun had turned deathly pale.

 

Oh, non, mon Dieu... dis ain' happenin'! Remy shook violently, meeting dark, vicious eyes. A bulky man was watching him from the next table. Non, non! It can' be him! Can' be! He needed to get out of here before he suffered a full blown panic attack, but he felt paralyzed and he could only stare as the other man rose to his feet and walked up to him.

 

"Well, what a surprise. You still owe me a fuck, boy. I paid more than enough for your scrawny ass."

 

Hugo, it's him! It's de face I saw in my nightmares for years! He haunted my dreams when I was a chile and his face still haunts me some nights. Non... non, dis can' be happenin! His breathing quickened and tremors shook his body. Fighting for air, he remained frozen on the chair.

 

Scott noticed the panic stricken expression on Remy's face and returned to the table. He didn't know the man Remy was talking to, but the leather clothing, cold eyes and evil grin made him wary.

 

"You still a virgin, boy? I paid to be the first one to fuck you..." Hugo snarled, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Whadda ya say? Want to make it up to me now?"

 

Remy started to hyperventilate and in a blind panic, he forced his body to move. He jumped up from his chair, almost tripped over a kid's toy and managed to run toward the doorway. Was Hugo following him? He didn't dare look over his shoulder. Once outside, he tried to regulate his breathing. His face felt wet and he suddenly realized that he was crying. Doubling over, he wrapped his arms around his waist and threw up what he had just eaten. His worst nightmare had come true!

 

Scott grabbed Hugo's wrist as the man tried to follow Remy outside. "Leave him alone." He had caught Hugo's last words and although he was puzzled, he realized that this man meant Remy harm.

 

"What? You're his new pimp? I ain't paying twice for his ass." Hugo freed himself of Scott's hold.

 

His pimp? Paying for his ass? What the hell is this about? Looking outside, he saw that Remy was throwing up. I can find out later. I've got to look after Remy first. "We're not done yet," he hissed and registered Hugo's grin. The man wasn't impressed.

 

Setting his priorities, Scott hurried outside and joined Remy, who was still suffering from dry heaves. "Hey, it's okay, don't fight it." Awkwardly but gently, Scott eased Remy's hair away from his face and rubbed the Cajun's back tenderly. "Done?"

 

Remy nodded his head; relieved the panic attack was over. "Wanna leave... wanna leave now!"

 

Scott flinched at the hysterical tone and reacted at once. He steered Remy toward the car and helped him inside. "Here." He handed Remy some bottled water, which he always kept in the car in case he had a long drive ahead of him. "Sorry, but I don't have mouthwash."

 

Remy didn't say a word. He used the water to rinse his mouth and spit the water onto the ground. After closing the car door, he leaned back and tried to get his fear back under control. Hugo couldn't touch him now. He was older and he knew how to defend himself against perverts like Hugo. One blow, delivered with his bo staff, could split Hugo's head like a ripe melon. Yes, he was safe... safe...

 

"Remy, what's this about?" Scott turned on the engine, but didn't drive away yet.

 

The panic returned fully when Remy realized that Scott had most likely overheard Hugo's words. Oh non, he can' know. Don' let him figure out what happened! Don' wanna lose de li'l respect he has for me! In shock, Remy curled up on his seat.

 

Scott stared at the unresponsive man. He needed to get Remy out of here and into an environment where he felt safe. "We're going back to the boathouse, okay?" But Remy didn't respond and Scott had to buckle his passenger up. We'll talk about this once you feel up to it.

 

Had he understood correctly? Scott's memory drifted back to the words the man had spoken. He just couldn't believe the conclusion he reached. He said he 'paid for his ass'. Mentioned Remy being a virgin and him wanting to be the first to... fuck him... What does that sound like? Shivers ran up and down his spine. Was Remy a prostitute once?

 

Looking at the shivering man in the passenger's seat, Scott dismissed that idea. Remy's terrified of this man. Whatever happened wasn't consensual... I can't believe this... was he raped? We really need to talk about this, but first... After delivering Remy to the boathouse he would return to Burger King and question this bastard who had scared Remy.

 

Remy had turned inward and was completely focused on numbing his feelings. He didn't want to feel the pain, fear and humiliation that came with being confronted by Hugo. All these years he had convinced himself that he had dealt with his time on the streets and now Hugo was back to haunt him. Ain' feelin' de pain, ain' feelin' de humiliation, de fear, de horror... ain' feelin' a t'ing... rien...

 

Scott sighed as Remy's eyes closed. Remy became completely motionless and if it hadn't been for the other man's breathing he would have thought Remy was dead. I'm going to find out what that was about... and this time you won't shut me out. We'll talk.

 

///

 

Warren gave up on knocking on the front door. Bored, he had decided to pay Remy a visit, hoping they could grow a little closer, but Remy wasn't answering the door. Maybe the Cajun had gone out? Figures, the one time that I take the initiative he isn't home.

 

Warren was about to head for the mansion when he noticed the BMW driving up to the boathouse. Using his sharp vision, he identified Scott behind the steering wheel and Remy in the passenger seat. Warren frowned, seeing the numb and vacant expression on the Cajun's face. His alarms kicked in and he waited for the car to come to a stop. "What's going on?" he asked, as Scott left the car. Damn it, Scott looked pale and worried.

 

"It's Remy. I need your help, Warren. I have to head back to find some answers and I can't leave Remy here on his own. Can you stay until I get back?" Scott moved to the other side of the car, opened the car door and practically dragged Remy to his feet. The Cajun was still unresponsive, staring into nothingness.

 

"What's wrong with him?" Warren now understood Scott's concern. The Cajun looked like the walking dead. Acting instinctively, he grabbed Remy's arm and supported the other man. Warren raised a puzzled eyebrow as Scott jumped into the car again. "Aren't you staying?" He panicked briefly at the prospect of taking care of Remy.

 

"I have to talk to this man... I'll be back as soon as possible." Scott didn't waste any time, kicked the car into gear and drove away from the boathouse. He had to get back to Burger King as quickly as possible. Hopefully, the man would still be there. He wanted some answers.

 

///

 

"Okay, let's do this," Warren mumbled absentmindedly. Looking at Remy's blank stare, he recalled that the Cajun had looked this withdrawn after he had absorbed Scott's depression. Remy was completely uncooperative and Warren dragged his dead weight inside. After guiding Remy to the couch, he helped the other man sit down. Remy's eyes were open, but the Cajun didn't notice his presence.

 

"Hey, Remy, what's going on?" Warren felt at a loss for words. He wasn't good at coaxing people into talking and he had never before tried connecting with the Cajun. Tremors shook Remy's body and the alien eyes closed. Shit... he's shutting me out... what do I do? What caused this?

 

Prompted into action, Warren collected a blanket from the bedroom and wrapped it around the shivering man. "Remy, what's going on? Talk to me? Scott dropped you off and I have no idea what happened."

 

Remy heard Warren's words, but chose to ignore the other man. Answering Warren meant leaving this protective cocoon and he still needed to hide from the ugly memories.

 

"Want to lie down? I can get you a pillow, help you get comfortable." Warren didn't wait for Remy's answer, knowing he probably wouldn't get a reply. "Here, let me help." He assisted Remy in lying down and covered him with a blanket. "Still cold?"

 

Remy turned his face away from Warren. Tears were about to roll down his face and he didn't want Warren to see him cry. He buried his fingers in the blanket, clawing at it. Please mon Dieu, don' let Hugo know where I live. I can' handle him showin' up on my doorstep.

 

Warren felt at a lost. Remy wasn't reacting, he was continuing to shut down. "Is there anything I can do? Do you want some hot tea? Coffee?" Come on, you're scaring me. I'm not a telepath, or an empath. I don't know how to reach you. In the end, Warren pulled a comfortable chair close to the couch so he could observe Remy. Should I tell Hank what's happening? Or do I wait until Scott gets back? Yeah, I'll wait for Scott to return.

 

///

 

Scott pulled up to the Burger King, parked the car and stalked inside. Within seconds he had located Hugo in the corner of the restaurant and he marched over to the other man. Apparently, Hugo was alone, which suited Scott just fine.

 

Hugo looked up from the table as Scott came to a halt in front of his table. "Whadda ya want?"

 

"I want to talk to you, outside." A burning rage was building in the pit of his stomach, seeing the dirty expression in the other man's eyes.

 

"What makes you think I wanna talk to you?" Hugo cocked his head and smirked. "Or did you bring the boy with you? Still got some unfinished business with that one."

 

"Outside, now." Scott didn't trust himself to remain calm and didn't want to draw attention to their conversation.

 

Hugo leaned back and shook his head. "Make me."

 

"You shouldn't have said that." Scott moved quickly, grabbed Hugo's right arm and twisted it.

 

Hugo moaned in pain. Scott's action had taken him by surprise. He had never thought the other man would resort to violence. "Okay, you made your point." Reluctantly, he got to his feet and headed for the exit.

 

Scott maintained his hold on the other man and after he maneuvered them outside, he led Hugo to a secluded area behind the restaurant.

 

Hugo was still smirking, despite the fact that the hold Scott had on his arm was becoming painful. "Whadda ya want, man?"

 

"I want to know what that was all about. What did you mean when you said you paid for his ass? And don't lie to me, you won't like the consequences." Scott was deadly serious. He would never willingly harm anyone, but this creep was pushing his buttons. "How do you know Remy?"

 

Hugo laughed, amused. He didn't know what was going on, but he decided to play along. "I found the street rat fifteen years on Bourbon Street. I paid some good money to fuck him and then he passed out on me... the little shit."

 

Scott's rage came to a boil and he jerked the other man's arm painfully. "You paid him?"

 

"Actually, I paid his pimp, Philippe." Hugo grinned, seeing the confusion on Scott's face. "Man, you really don't get it, do you? The boy's a little whore. He had a pretty good reputation for giving head, but I wanted to try his tight little hole. He was still a virgin, at least Philippe assured me he was..."

 

Unable to control his rage any longer, Scott's fist connected with Hugo's chin. "You bastard..." Scott had quickly done the mathematics. Remy was about twenty-five years old so he had been ten when this pervert had gotten his hands on him.

 

"Hey, chill out, man," Hugo sneered, enraged that the other man had thrown a punch at him. "The kid was a whore! I paid his pimp to fuck him."

 

"Did you? Fuck him?" Hugo had said something about Remy passing out, but his brain had trouble registering everything. Grabbing Hugo by his T-shirt, he pulled the other man close. "Did you fuck him?" Scott asked, through clenched teeth.

 

"The little bastard passed out while I was fucking him... didn't get to finish..." Hugo never ended his sentence. Scott threw a wild punch at him, which sent him flying into the wall, but the grin stayed glued to his face. "What? You jealous, boy? Didn't he let you fuck him? Is that it?"

 

Disgusted, Scott turned away from Hugo. "Don't ever come close to him again. If I find you're harassing him, you'll answer to me. Leave him alone!"

 

"You want a piece of his ass... that's it!" Hugo leered, triumphantly. 

 

Scott's hands turned into fists. Get out of here before you kill the son of a bitch. Scott walked over to his car and saw Hugo go back inside. My God, I was ready to bash his ugly face in!

 

Suddenly, the enormity of what he had learned hit him. It can't have been consensual! A ten year old can't willingly prostitute himself. I can't believe that! This Philippe must have forced him... Shit, didn't Remy mention that name when he was lighting those candles? What if it's true? What if he was prostituting himself at ten? Fuck, I never... Scott banged his fist against the steering wheel. "We never suspected a thing!"

 

He keyed the ignition and the car left the parking lot with screeching tires.

 

///

 

Remy, why are you doing this? You're an empath and a telepath. You're probably receiving my thoughts and yet you keep quiet. What the hell set this off? I thought you were doing okay. Warren had kept a vigil at Remy's side for the last hour and fervently hoped that Scott was coming back shortly. Remy was really scaring him. The Cajun hadn't moved since he had covered the younger man with a blanket. Remy's eyes were closed, but the Cajun's breathing told him that Remy wasn't asleep.

 

"I'm going to make some tea," Warren announced. "And you're going to drink some as well." You look like death warmed over. When had Remy lost the weight? Gained the dark circles under his eyes? They had participated in a mission a month ago and Remy had seemed okay back then.

 

Reluctantly, Warren left his chair and moved into the kitchen to boil the water for his tea, but he kept a close eye on the Cajun all the time. Remy was too quiet, too withdrawn and the dam could burst any moment now. Hopefully, Scott would be back in time to deal with the flood of emotions, which Remy was trying to keep locked up inside.

 

The kettle whistled sharply and Warren noticed how Remy flinched, hearing the penetrating sound. Warren filled their mugs with hot water, added the tea bags and waited a minute before removing them again. He carried the mugs over to the coffee table; this time he was determined to get through to the Cajun.

 

"Try to drink some tea?" Warren manhandled Remy into a sitting position and smiled privately, seeing the annoyance in the Cajun's eyes. You want me to back off, but I'm not going to do that. I gave up Bets to build this friendship... "Here..." Resolutely, he took hold of Remy's right hand and curled the Cajun's fingers around the mug. "Sip slowly." Remy gave him a dirty look and Warren smiled. Remy was finally acknowledging his presence. "Care to tell me what's going on?"

 

"Non." Remy's voice sounded clipped and cold. Remy averted his eyes, ignoring Warren the best he could. The other man's worry surprised him, but Worthington was probably only concerned because Scott had entrusted him to Warren. "Don' wanna talk at all. You don' have to stay... go back to de mansion." Hugo's face flashed in his mind and the tea spilled over the rim. "Merde!" The hot tea burned his skin, but he hardly felt the pain.

 

Warren was more determined than ever to stay until Scott got back. "Here, let me..." He leaned in closer to gather to blanket, hang it out to dry and get Remy a new, dry one, but the Cajun flinched violently when their hands met.

 

"Don' touch me!" Remy yelled, curling up again. "Jus' don' touch me."

 

Startled, Warren stared at the frightened Cajun. "Remy, what the hell is going on?" He was about to pressure Remy into talking when the front door opened and Scott stepped inside. Warren released a relieved sigh. Yes, Scott was back and his friend knew how to handle Remy, but seeing the expression on Scott's face, Warren almost reconsidered. Scott was pale and his hands were tightly clenched fists. Shit, this is bad.

 

Scott forced himself to remain calm. "Warren, thanks for looking after him. Could you leave us now? I really need to talk to Remy."

 

Warren nodded his head. The tension in the room was getting to him. "Sure, just let me know if you need anything." He quickly covered the distance to the door and slipped past Scott.

 

Remy involuntarily held his breath, sensing Scott's anger. Did he figure it out? Why did he leave 'gain after droppin' me off?

 

Scott sat down in the now vacant chair and studied Remy's eyes. They were numb, had lost their glow, the mischievous sparkle was completely gone. When had he seen it last? "I went back to Burger King," he started. "I talked to him."

 

"You talked to Hugo?" In spite of his panic, Remy managed the question. Merde, he knows! The tremors grew worse and he clutched the blanket, no longer noticing the wet spot.

 

"Hugo? So that's the bastard's name?"

 

Remy flinched. He had never heard Scott use the word bastard before.

 

Scott drew in a deep breath, hating to tell Remy he knew about his time on Bourbon Street. "He told me you were a prostitute."

 

A giant lump had formed in his throat, making it nearly impossible for him to speak and his breath came in short spurts. Mon Dieu, can' start hyperventilatin' 'gain... Breathing rapidly, he tried to stay in control of his feelings, but fear and panic overwhelmed him.

 

"Here." Scott had retrieved a plastic bag from the kitchen and placed it over Remy's lips and nose. "Try to slow down. Take nice, slow breaths." Remy's reaction didn't surprise him. So it's true...

 

Remy needed a few minutes to calm down. Putting the plastic bag down, he lowered his eyes, avoiding Scott's. This was one conversation he didn't want to have, but Scott deserved the truth. He knows anyway!

 

"Remy?" Scott had taken his seat again and tried to capture Remy's glance. He failed. The Cajun was determined not to look at him. "Why don't you tell me what this is about?"

 

Remy closed his eyes. His voice was monotone and emotionless when he started talking. "Was nine when I ended up on de streets. Didn' have any money or a home. Didn' have any friends. Philippe took me in and I sucked off his customers, earnin' my keep. Stayed on de streets for a few months... Den Hugo happened. He raped me... When I regained consciousness, Philippe was dying. After he died, I left our room, determined to score some crack... mais I ran into poppa and he took me in. He saved my life." Emotionally exhausted, Remy felt numb. Scott was going to leave any moment now and he would be alone again.

 

Scott's fingernails dug into the armrest of the chair. I can't believe this... he was nine when this Philippe forced him to perform sexual favors? And this Philippe let Hugo rape Remy? Shaking his head, he tried to find the right words to say. "I'm sorry," he whispered eventually.

 

"Sorry?" Surprised, Remy finally looked at Scott. "Sorry? Why are you sorry?"

 

"I'm sorry those horrible things happened to you when you were a kid. I'm sorry that Hugo turned up at Burger King. You suffered some flash backs right there and then, didn't you?" He didn't need to see Remy nod his head; he already knew he was right. Damn it, Remy... you went through all this and we never suspected it... Shit, Hugo raped him!

 

"Cyke?" Worried, Remy sought out Scott's eyes, but as usual they were hidden behind his ruby glasses. Scott's mind was a swamp of emotions, dragging him down. Feeling Scott's anger, he assumed it was aimed at him. He had overstayed his welcome and should pack his things. Scott wouldn't want a whore around! The other man was probably trying to think of a way to tell him to leave the mansion ASAP.

 

"Am gonna pack my stuff now." Remy wanted to throw off the blanket, but he lacked the strength to move his arms. Get movin', LeBeau. He doesn' want you here, not after findin' out what you really are. Dere's no place wit' de X-Men for whores!

 

"Remy?" Scott finally met the Cajun's gaze. Some of Remy's thoughts were slipping into his mind and alarmed, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around Remy's wrist. "What? You think I no longer want you around because... because those perverts couldn't keep their hands off a defenseless child? Is that it? Do you really think I'd sink that low?" The fact that Remy had such little faith in him hurt.

 

Remy was at a loss for words and simply stared at Scott's hand, resting on his wrist. Don' touch, don' touch, don' touch...

 

Scott jerked back as if burned when Remy's cries drifted into his mind. He let go of Remy's wrist immediately and watched the younger man curl up on the couch.

 

Don' touch, don' touch, don' touch... Don' touch, don' touch, don' touch...

 

The soft pleading in his mind continued and Scott rubbed his temples. Feeling helpless, he wanted to reach out and assure Remy by touch, but the Cajun's reaction had told him he didn't want to be touched. What do I do now?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter 2

Catharsis

 

Don' touch, don' touch, don' touch... Curled up, Remy pulled the blanket up to his chin, barely suppressing the urge to hide his face as well. The thought that Hugo was still out there scared the hell out of him. He felt nine years old again, and at Hugo's mercy.

 

"Remy? Why don't you tell me what to do?" Remy had made it through this painful process before so Scott had made it his priority to find out how! It would tell him how to make Remy feel safe. "Remy, did you hear me?"

 

Remy bit his bottom lip, trying hard not to react, but he couldn't lock Scott out completely. Ignoring Warren had been a lot easier. Please go 'way... don' want you to see me like dis... But he stopped himself from broadcasting those thoughts; secretly, he didn't want Scott to leave. Don' wanna be 'lone. What if Hugo finds me?

 

Scott left his chair and sat on his heels in front of the couch, looking at Remy's back. The Cajun's body still shook with tiny tremors and his hand remained poised in mid-air, uncertain if Remy would allow the touch. "Could you turn around, Remy? I would really like to see your face when I'm talking to you."

 

Remy swallowed hard. Why couldn't Scott just leave him alone? Against his better judgment, he rolled onto his other side, but he kept his eyes shut, still refusing to make eye contact.

 

"Remy?" Scott was going to do this in tiny steps. "Open your eyes and look at me?"

 

Remy didn't want to obey, but his eyes flashed open anyway. Feeling numb, he stared at Scott's ruby glasses. Wish I could see his eyes...

 

"Tell me what to do, Remy. Only you know what you need. Tell me how to help." Scott hoped this tactic would work. If only he could lure Remy into talking to him! Slowly, making sure Remy could see his every move, he placed his hand on Remy's, where it was still clawing at the blanket. "Just tell me what will make you feel comfortable."

 

Mon Dieu, I hate bein' dis way, dis pat'etic. I don' want him to see me dis way. Merde I don' want to feel like dis. Don' wanna feel 'lone and scared... Remy shivered, hearing Scott's words. The only one who had been able to make him feel safe and relaxed was Jean-Luc LeBeau and that was only because the Patriarch of the Thieves' Guild loved him unconditionally. And mebbe he hung in dere 'caus he felt guilty for stealin' me from de hospital.

 

What if I tell him and he heads back for de mansion tomorrow, leavin' me 'lone 'gain. Can I take dat risk? Scott was still assuring him that he wanted to help, that he was waiting for Remy to tell him what to do.

 

"Remy, please don't shut me out." Scott was growing desperate now that Remy wasn't reacting. "Is it because I moved back to the mansion?" Remy flinched. Yes, that's it. "Give me a second chance, Remy?"

 

A second chance? Why should you get one when life didn' give me anot'er chance? Staring at Scott, he trembled; the other man's concern washed over him. He's really worried... I never knew he cared dis much 'bout me... Who am I to deny him a second chance?

 

"Remy?" Scott didn't know how to interpret the changing expression in Remy's eyes.

 

"Wha’ ya want to know?" His voice sounded raw, and Remy cleared his throat, trying to regain a hold on his feelings.

 

"How did you deal with this the first time? You were only a child back then..." Scott sat down on the floor and gently squeezed Remy's hand. It felt weird, comforting another man, but six months ago Remy had reached out to him and the Cajun had looked after him. He could do the same thing for Remy, even if it made him slightly uncomfortable. He had never before been this emotionally close to another man and he hoped he wasn't going to commit any major mistakes. "How did you do it?"

 

"I didn' do a t'ing," Remy whispered, emotionally. "Poppa made it alright 'gain."

 

"Poppa?"

 

"Jean-Luc... he... I don' know how he did it. He didn' lemme shut him out..." He touched me... kindly, and wit' no hidden agenda. It was his gentleness, his concern dat made me crawl back from dat bottomless pit I had buried myself in. Mais Scott, you can' do dat... You won' touch a whore... I know you won'.

 

Scott flinched violently, receiving Remy's thoughts. He didn't know if Remy had sent them intentionally or accidentally, but they did tell him what Remy really thought of him. "Remy, is that it? Do you want me to..."

 

"Hold me..." Remy finished for him, realizing Scott had picked up on his thoughts. Merde! He had thought that his shields were strong enough to keep his thoughts and emotions from leaking out!

 

Hold him? Didn't expect that one! Feeling awkward and uncertain, Scott raised his arm and rested it on Remy's shoulder. "If you want me to hold you we'd better take this upstairs. We won't fit on the couch." A startled expression appeared in Remy's eyes and he had a pretty good idea what was going on. "Come on, Remy, you know me! I won't touch you against your will. Have some faith in me, Remy. Please, trust me. I only want to help."

 

Sorry... know you only wanna help, I really do, mais... seein' Hugo and hearin' his voice brought everyt'in' back. Remy allowed Scott to help him sit upright. Am tired... he admitted. He even felt too tired to talk.

 

"Then let me do the work," Scott offered, supporting Remy as they climbed the stairs. He briefly hesitated before entering Remy's bedroom, afraid that memories of his time spent here with Jean would overwhelm him, but they didn't, and he continued to lead Remy to the bed. "Do you want to change into your sweats? Can't be comfortable, sleeping in those jeans."

 

Remy nodded his head. "Could... could you turn 'round?" He desperately wanted to slip into his sweats, but shivered at the thought of Scott watching, or even worse, assisting him. He wasn't a baby and he didn't want Scott watching every move he made. Mais you have to admit, he's actin' a bit like poppa used to... hoverin' all 'bout you...

 

Scott couldn't hide his smile. "Got a pair of sweats for me as well? I'll change my clothes in the bathroom and then you don't have to worry about me peeking at you." He hoped his smile would assure Remy that he was merely teasing him.

 

Fortunately, Remy picked up on the teasing and he gave Scott a weak smile in return. He opened the closet, gathered the sweats and handed them to Scott. "Hope dey fit."

 

"I'm sure they'll do just fine." Scott took the sweats and walked into the bathroom. He left the door ajar, unsure whether Remy had to know that he was still there and hadn't left.

 

Remy used the time to slip out of his jeans and shirt and into the sweats. He flinched when Scott entered the bedroom again. For one moment he had been back at Burger King again, seeing Hugo standing in front of him. Merde, I'm gonna have nightmares 'gain and it ain' fair to keep Scott up all night. He needs sleep too. "Mebbe you should sleep in de ot'er bedroom or go back to de mansion? I'll be tossin' and turnin' all night long."

 

Taking the initiative, Scott walked over to the bed and pushed down the covers. "Let's try to get some sleep, Remy." He lay down, and watched Remy fight his inner battle. "We slept peacefully that month while we shared a bed. Come on, Remy, let's try again."

 

Mechanically, Remy walked over to the bed, sat down on the side and stared at the wall. "Dis ain' right..."

 

"Why's that?"

 

"Don' know... jus' feels wrong." Confused, Remy lay down as well. His body felt heavy and his eyelids were closing. Facing away from Scott, Remy curled up on his side.

 

So this is how you're going to play it? Damn it, Remy, this won't work and we both know it. Even though you're only inches away from me, you're still shutting me out. Scott pulled the comforter over their bodies and tucked it around their forms. They would be a lot more comfortable if Remy moved closer... or he could move closer. But he didn't want to impose himself, uncertain how Remy would react to being pulled close to another body. It might trigger his flashbacks again... Resigned, Scott stared at Remy's back, then reached to switch off the lamp on the nightstand.

 

"What are you doin'?" Frantically, Remy rolled onto his other side.

 

The panic in Remy's eyes took Scott aback. "Hey, it's okay. I'm only killing the light."

 

"Don'! Please leave it on," Remy said pleadingly. "Don' wanna go to sleep in de dark..."

 

"Okay, then, the light stays on." Scott stared at Remy from behind his ruby glasses. The Cajun's eyes were drooping shut again, but Remy was still fighting his exhaustion. "You can close your eyes and go to sleep, Remy. I'll still be here in the morning."

 

"Promise?" Remy whispered in a timid tone.

 

"Yeah, I promise," Scott assured him. "Now try to relax... think of something nice... think of Jean-Luc... and go to sleep. I'll watch over you tonight"

 

"Sounds... nice," Remy mumbled, already half sleep.

 

Scott smiled and tucked the blanket back around Remy's form. I forgot how nice it felt to have company at night... Oh, Jean, I miss you so much, but Remy... stop thinking that! She's only been dead for seven months! You can't be thinking this, but it's true... I do like Remy. I like him a lot... no, this can't happen. I can't betray Jean like that. I'm not attracted to Remy... I'm not!

 

Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore the warm body close to him. He thought of Jean, the few times she hadn't been feeling well and he had loved taking care of her; it made him feel loved and useful. Now that Remy didn't feel well, he enjoyed taking care of the Cajun, feeling warm inside now that the other man needed him and wanted him close.

 

I won't go there again, Jean. I promise. I know you gave me your blessing to love again, but it's just too soon and this is Remy we're talking about. He doesn't want a man as his lover, not after what he has been through on the streets and with Hugo. Stop thinking about it. I love Jean and I'm not attracted to Remy. I'm not!

 

///

 

Scott woke up because Remy was trying to leave the bed. "What are you doing, Remy?" He kept his voice soft and tender, making sure he didn't startle the Cajun.

 

Remy flinched, not because of Scott's tone, but because he had woken the other man. "C'est bien, Scott. I'm only t'irsty, need somet'in' to drink. Won' do anyt'in' stupid." Feeling shy and somewhat embarrassed, he had to admit that he didn't want to leave the bed. Scott's presence had ensured his first undisturbed sleep in months. Even Hugo's ugly visage hadn't haunted him.

 

"Stay in bed, Remy." Scott pushed back the comforter and got to his feet. "Lie down, come on, Remy."

 

Uncertain what was going on, Remy obeyed. He didn't really have the strength to verbally fight over this with Scott. The other man covered him with the still warm comforter and Scott walked over to his side of the bed. What were Scott's plans?

 

"What would you like? Water? Tea? Warm milk?" Scott frowned, seeing Remy's surprised look. "What?"

 

"You wanna get me somet'in' to drink? Mais Scott, I can do dat myself! You don' have to get up and..." He didn't get a chance to finish.

 

"It's okay, Remy. I'll get you something to drink. I don't mind. Just stay in bed and keep warm? I'll be back in a few minutes. Now what do you want to drink?"

 

"You really don' mind?" Remy had trouble keeping the surprise out of his voice. "Don' wanna be a burden."

 

"You're not a burden," Scott assured him. "Now tell me what you want me to get."

 

"Warm milk?" Remy said hesitantly. "Mais if dat's too much work, bottled water will do jus’ as well." Why? Why was Scott doing this for him? He just didn't understand why Scott went to all this trouble.

 

"Warm milk it is," Scott said cheerfully, completely awake now. "Anything else you need?"

 

"Non." Remy shook his head and watched Scott leave the room. What was happening? Why was Scott this concerned? Should he ask Scott those questions or keep quiet instead?

 

///

 

Scott actually smiled while warming the milk. When he had found Remy leaving the bed he had instinctively offered his services. The dark circles under the Cajun's eyes were proof of how little sleep Remy had gotten lately and he wanted the other man to rest.

 

After pouring the warm milk into a mug, he switched off the lights and went upstairs again, wondering if Remy was still awake. Now he felt grateful that the light on the nightstand was still on, though he would have seen the glowing red eyes in the dark as well. "Here's your milk. You should sit up, Remy."

 

Remy pushed himself into a sitting position and curled his fingers around the warm mug. He waited until Scott was back in bed before firing his question at the other man. "Why? Why are you doin' dis? You don' need to take care of me."

 

Scott smiled saddened. "Drink your milk, Remy."

 

"You still didn' answer my question," Remy said stubbornly after sipping cautiously at the warm milk.

 

"I like doing this for you... it was like that with Jean as well." Inwardly debating whether to continue or not, he watched Remy's eyes widen. "She didn't get sick very often, but when she did I loved taking care of her, fetching her drinks, rubbing her back, things like that."

 

Remy stared into his milk. Mais I ain' Jean... dis doesn' explain why you're takin' care of me. Merde, did I jus' broadcast dat? Worried, he looked at Scott.

 

"Yeah, you did and you're right. It doesn't really explain it, does it?" Scott carefully selected his next words. "But I consider you a good friend. You saw me through a very rough time right after Jean died and it makes me feel good to do the same for you in return."

 

Remy suddenly smiled weakly. So you're one of dose people who like givin’ instead of receivin'? Where did dat one come from?

 

"Yeah, I guess I am. Now shut up and drink your milk. It's only three in the morning and I want us to get some more sleep."

 

"Don' tell me you scheduled a trainin' session in de mornin'," Remy complained. "I won' make it on time for dat one."

 

"No, no training session, but I want you to talk to the professor and Hank in the morning. I don't know how to help you and..." Scott stopped as Remy suddenly grew pale. The Cajun's hands shook and the milk almost sloshed over the rim.

 

"I ain' talkin' to Hank! Don' want anyone else to know and you won' tell dem!" It was bad enough that Charles knew. In his confused state, he had almost forgotten that he had told the professor about his past seven months ago while the team had been away on a mission.

 

Remy was shaking and Scott wondered if it was due to fear or anger. "Hey, I won't tell them without your permission. I just thought they could help you!"

 

"Don' need anyone’s help!" Remy stared at the milk, feeling angry and hurt. Scott wasn't in this for the long haul. Tomorrow, Scott would dump him at Hank’s doorstep!

 

Confused, Scott tried to make sense of Remy's reaction. Jean had once told him that all negative emotions originated from fear, so... "What are you afraid of, Remy?"

 

"I ain' 'fraid." But he was; afraid that he would end up alone again.

 

Scott suddenly realized what might be going on in Remy's head. "I'll be with you every step of the way, like you saw me through."

 

Remy firmly shook his head. "Non, you won'."

 

Scott frowned. "Remy..."

 

"Jus' stop it, Cyke." Remy placed the nearly empty mug on the nightstand with a loud bang and lay down again, hogging the comforter. His back turned to Scott, he was grateful that the other man couldn't see his watering eyes. "Go back to sleep, Cyke."

 

Scott's frown deepened. What the hell had just happened? "Remy...?"

 

"I ain' talkin' no more, Cyke." Remy closed his eyes, pressed his lips tightly shut and pretended he was back at home in New Orleans. Searching his memory, he recalled an old lullaby Mattie used to hum and he forced himself to fall asleep while listening to it.

 

Now that went smoothly, Scott thought sarcastically. Just when I thought I was finally getting through to him, he shuts down again. What freaked him out? So the professor and Hank are not options... I have to come up with a solution myself...

 

Scott stared at Remy's back and fought down the urge to pull the Cajun into his arms. Unable to sleep, he tried to come up with a way to help Remy conquer his demons.

 

///

 

"Non! Don'! Get your hands off of me! Poppa, he's back, Hugo, Philippe, de Antiquary, dey're back!" Remy was screaming and thrashing in the bed, striking at non-existent enemies.

 

Scott woke at Remy's screams and promptly received a punch in his stomach, followed by a kick to his shins. Remy was desperately trying to push him out of bed, out of his personal space. The thing that really scared Scott was that Remy's eyes were open, but staring blindly at the wall.

 

"Remy, listen to my voice. It's me, Scott and you're at the boathouse." He had left the bed and was watching Remy struggle with his imaginary tormentors. "Remy!"

 

He hadn't meant to yell at him, but it was the only way to draw the Cajun's attention. Suddenly, Remy went still. No longer struggling, his eyes came alive and fixed on him.

 

"Yeah, that's better. Remy, you had a nightmare... calm down, okay?" Scott maintained his distance, not climbing back into bed yet. He was now on his heels in front of Remy, careful not to touch the other man. "Are you okay again? Remember me? Remember the boathouse?"

 

Remy's brow grew knitted. "A nightmare, oui, it was a nightmare..." Panting softly, he tried to compose himself. "Kicked you out de bed, non?" Too shy to make eye contact, he closed them, recalling his nightmare. It had been awful. Philippe, Hugo and the Antiquary had grabbed him, pushing him down and he had known what would happen next, but then Scott's voice had pulled him back. "Sorry... did I hurt you?"

 

"Just my pride," Scott teased; he would sport some bruises later. He checked the time; it was seven in the morning. "Do you want to go back to sleep?" Remy firmly shook his head. "I guess that's a no. Why don't you take a long, hot shower and I'll prepare breakfast in the meantime? We can talk things over while eating breakfast." He still had some questions left. Remy had told him about Hugo and Philippe but who was the Antiquary?

 

Remy considered Scott's suggestion. He's right. I'm ripe... could use a shower. "Bien," he said eventually, slowly getting up. He was somewhat unsteady on his feet, still dizzy from the nightmare, but he managed to walk into the bathroom unaided. After turning on the shower, he took off his clothes and stepped beneath the warm spray. Mon Dieu, it's happenin' 'gain... de nightmares are back... after all dese years!

 

///

 

Remy put on some clean sweat pants and slipped into a long sleeved shirt. After putting on socks, he hesitantly descended the stairs. He heard Scott puttering in the kitchen, making breakfast. His stomach contracted, making it clear that food wasn't an option right now. Maybe he would manage to keep some orange juice down.

 

Scott looked up from making bacon and eggs when Remy hesitantly entered the kitchen. The Cajun's eyes remained fixed on the floor and after sitting down at the kitchen table, Remy remained quiet. "I hope you're hungry."

 

"Non, not really. Feel queasy." Remy cringed, finding that Scott had made bacon and eggs, toast, waffles and he had even managed to find cornflakes in one of the cupboards.

 

"Here, try to eat something." Scott placed a waffle on Remy's plate and poured the Cajun some orange juice. "You can have some coffee later, vitamins come first."

 

Remy played with his waffle, tearing off very small pieces and putting them reluctantly in his mouth. He had a hard time swallowing them and washed them down with orange juice. "Why are you still here, Scott?"

 

Scott had expected that question. Last night, Remy had already mentioned being surprised that he was fussing over the Cajun. "I'm here because I care, Remy."

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders once. "Dey need you at de mansion."

 

"I already called Warren and told him I'd be staying at the boathouse for a few days. He sounded worried and asked how you were doing." It was the truth. Warren had sounded concerned when they had talked earlier.

 

"Why would he care?" Remy shoved his plate away and nursed his orange juice.

 

"Warren's been trying and when you're honest with yourself, you have to admit he's been doing his best. Betsy and Warren even fought over you, do you know that?"

 

Remy's eyes suddenly glowed. "Fought?"

 

"Warren called it quits. They were fighting because he'd decided to give you another chance and Betsy was against it. Luckily Warren finally got his priorities straight. He's spending a lot of time with Bobby and Hank these days. You didn't know that?"

 

"Non," Remy whispered surprised. Mebbe Warren cares after all? Why is it so hard to believe dat? Mebbe 'cause he never tried to get 'long all dese years? "I'm sorry he and Betsy are no longer toget'er."

 

"Don't be," Scott said reassuringly, prodding Remy to eat more. "I think it's for the best, at least I hope so. I never really liked Betsy and Jean didn't like her that much either."

 

Remy suddenly realized his chance to change the topic of their conversation. It would take the focus away from him. "How are you doin', Scott? Wit'out Jean?"

 

Pain flared inside Scott's heart. "I still miss her every day." He understood Remy's tactic, might have used it himself when feeling cornered, and was determined not to let the Cajun get away with it. "But we were talking about you, not me."

 

Merde, he knows what I'm doin'! Remy finally finished his waffle, but his stomach was still rebelling against the forced food intake.

 

"Remy, can I ask you something personal?" Scott watched Remy carefully while pouring them some coffee. He added sugar and milk to Remy's mug. No way would he let Remy drink it black and ruin his stomach. "Here." He handed Remy the mug and caught the cautious look the other man gave him.

 

"Whadda you wanna know?" Remy sipped his coffee, finally feeling human again as the caffeine did its job. His stomach oddly enough settled down and he allowed a weak smile to break through.

 

"Who's the Antiqua..." Scott stopped talking, seeing Remy's eyes darken.

 

"How do you know 'bout him?" He was sure he hadn’t mentioned anything about the old leech. Scott couldn't know about the Antiquary! Panicking, he looked at the front door, relieved that he had a way out if he decided to make a run for it.

 

"You screamed his name when you were having that nightmare. You also mentioned Hugo and Philippe and I know about them, but who's the Antiquary?"

 

Remy averted his eyes. "Someone from my past."

 

"Remy, did he... did he hurt you like Hugo did?" Scott bit his lip. He was treading on dangerous ground, but he had to know the truth if he wanted to help Remy. Please, don't let him say yes. How many people hurt him in the past? Just how many people abused him? And I never knew... some great team leader I am!

 

Remy sensed Scott's discomfort and anger and assumed he was the cause of it. Finding out just many times he had been abused must disgust Scott. Why was the other man still hanging in there?

 

"Remy? Did this Antiquary... abuse you?" Scott held his breath while Remy seemed to decide on an answer.

 

"Not physically," Remy admitted in the end. "He was a mutant, a telepat' who fed off ot'ers to stay 'live... I would feel him enter my mind and take what he needed." His hands rested idly in his lap. Why had he told Scott? "Pretty pat'etic, non? Can' even take care of myself."

 

"How old were you when this happened?" Scott's hand itched to cover Remy's, but he wasn't sure the Cajun would welcome the touch.

 

Remy laughed, bitterly. "I spent de first nine years of my life at de Velvet Ministry. Dat's what he called us... his collection of mutant chil'ren."

 

Scott managed to hide his shock. "So for the first nine years this Antiquary fed off of you and then you...?"

 

"I escaped... and ended up on de streets of N'Arlings. Had to stay 'live and Philippe showed me how to earn some money. I never let dem fuck me, mais Philippe needed money to buy dope and..."

 

"That's when Hugo entered the picture."

 

"Oui, Philippe had shot me up first and I came to when Hugo was 'ready in de room. I didn' stand a chance... I passed out and when I woke up Philippe was dying. Left de room in search of dope... wanted to lose myself in de drugs, mais den I ran into Jean-Luc LeBeau. He took me in, adopted me... helped me heal." This emotional bloodletting was taking its toll. He felt weak and worthless now that his past had caught up with him.

 

A lump had formed in Scott's throat and he cleared it, trying to hide his shock. Remy's childhood had been miserable. "And you never expected to ever run into Hugo again."

 

"I never t'ought it could happen." Remy stared into his now empty mug. Suddenly, he lifted his eyes. "Promise me you won' tell anyone."

 

"Remy..."

 

"Non! Dey 'ready don' t'ink much of me! Knowing that I was... a whore, dey would lose de li'l respect dey have for me. You can' tell anyone. Promise me!" Panicking, his fingernails clawed the wooden table. "Promise me!"

 

"I promise," Scott said, acting on instinct and already regretting making that promise. "But I still think you're making a mistake. The others could help you deal with this."

 

"I've been dealin' wit' it for years," Remy said, embittered. "And I'll be dealin' wit' it for de rest of my life." Even though the professor knew about his past, he didn't feel comfortable turning to Charles for help.

 

"It doesn't have to be that way," Scott said, firmly. "Will you at least let me help you?"

 

"How? How can you help me?" Remy looked at Scott, pleadingly.

 

"I've got an idea," Scott whispered, still working out the details in his head. "I need to make a phone call... and no, I won't tell them what's going on," he added quickly to reassure Remy.

 

Remy's shoulders slumped forward. "It ain' like I can stop you..."

 

"Stay here, okay? I'll make that phone call and I'll be back in a few minutes." Scott waited for Remy to nod his head and then moved to the living room, picking up his cell phone.

 

Remy listened closely, afraid Scott would break his word.

 

"Yes, Bobby, it's me... Remy's doing better... why I'm calling? I need the Danger Room at my exposal tonight... let's say from ten to midnight. Can you make sure no one's around at that time...? Yes, you can? That's great... Yeah, I'll keep you informed. Thanks, Bobby."

 

"De Danger Room?" Remy slowly walked over to the couch and then collapsed on it. He monitored every move Scott made.

 

"Yes, the Danger Room." Scott sat down opposite Remy and kept the other man's gaze prisoner. "I need to adjust the program..."

 

"In what way?" Remy frowned, shivered and pulled up his knees to his chin. Curled up like that, he tried to fight an impending sense of doom.

 

"I know what Hugo looks like... of all the people you mentioned last night, he scares you the most, doesn't he?"

 

"Oui," Remy whispered, wondering what Scott was up to.

 

"I want to create a hologram that resembles Hugo..."

 

"Non!" Remy leapt to his feet and was about to flee the room when Scott grabbed his arm. He froze, staring at the fingers curled around his arm. He forced himself to look at Scott in order to drive away Hugo's face. It's only Scott, not Hugo...

 

"You have to face your fears, Remy, or you'll continue to run for the rest of your life and you have been running for a long time, haven't you?"

 

"Oui," Remy admitted. "But I can' face him... not even a hologram."

 

"Remy..." Scott moved closer and rested his hands on Remy's shoulders. "You have to realize that you're no longer a frightened nine year old who has no means of defense. You're a grown man now and that bo staff of yours can easily split his head open."

 

"Don' do dis to me..." Tears gathered in his eyes. "Don', please..." Scott was right; he still felt like a little boy, scared and defenseless. That was why he had run at Burger King.

 

"Remy, you have to face your demons... Running away only makes you miserable. Let's do this together, yes? You don't have to do this on your own... let me help." Scott suddenly found that he had taken hold of Remy's right hand and he was rubbing the knuckles soothingly. Remy didn't seem to notice the caress. Not wanting to draw attention to the gesture, he rubbed Remy's fingers once more and then released them. "What do you say? Are we going to do this? Together?"

 

"I'm scared..." Remy confessed. He had spent his life hiding and running away from his personal demons and now Scott wanted him to face them? "Can' do it on my own..."

 

"You don't have to," Scott said warmly and smiled. "We'll do it together."

 

///

 

Later that day, they left for the mansion and ran into Bobby who was keeping an eye on the Danger Room, as he had promised.

 

Bobby grinned at Scott, but his smile faded as he looked at Remy, who was slouching and staring at the floor. "Hey, Remy, are you okay? You look like hell."

 

"He's always honest," Scott commented, while shaking his head at Bobby's blunt remark. Remy didn't react and Scott sighed. "I trust no one's inside?"

 

"I told them the Danger Room was shut down due for maintenance and they didn't mind, glad to have the evening to themselves. Most have left the mansion. Only Warren stayed behind..."

 

"Thanks, Bobby," Scott said, sincerely. "Leave us alone and make sure Warren stays where he is?"

 

"Sure, we planned on playing some poker. I'll keep him occupied." Bobby hesitated briefly, then pushed on. "What are you going to do? Remy doesn't look like he's in any shape to make it through a training session."

 

"We're not going to load a training program," Scott reassured him. "Trust me, Bobby. Everything will be just fine in the end. I'll see to that."

 

Remy looked up, hearing those words. Why wasn't Scott giving up? Why pressure him into doing this? He had tried looking his demons in the eye, but it had been such a painful experience that he had never tried again.

 

"Sure, Slim." Bobby tried to make eye contact with Remy, but the Cajun stared in the opposite direction. Bobby sighed and whispered, "You know where to find me if you need help."

 

"Yes, I do," Scott quickly reassured him and he watched Bobby leave the area. "Come on, Remy, let's do this." Looking at the Cajun, he found that Remy was trembling. His face was deathly pale and Remy's hands had turned into fists, his fingernails biting into the soft flesh of his palm. Instinctively, Scott reached out and claimed Remy's right hand. He expected the Cajun to jerk away, but Remy allowed it, even tightened the hold a little.

 

"I don' wanna do dis," Remy murmured, upset. The idea of facing Hugo knotted his stomach and he felt like he was going to throw up at any moment now.

 

"I'll be with you, remember?" Scott led Remy inside and closed the door behind him. As promised, the Danger Room was empty. "Stay here, I have to program the computer." The expression in Remy's eyes worried him. "Remy, don't give up. We'll manage."

 

Remy slowly nodded his head. I trust you, Scott, dat ain' it, mais... I can' face Hugo...

 

Scott released Remy's hand, went into the control room and adjusted the program. He waited for the new program to come online and then left the control room to join Remy. "The hologram will come online in a few minutes..." He didn't want to startle Remy and wanted to prepare the other man for the shock. "What are you feeling right now?"

 

"Fear... I'm scared... his face haunted me so long... no way it'll stop hauntin' me after dis. I appreciate what you're doin', mais it won' work...I'm 'ready runnin' 'way... mentally." Cold sweat erupted from his pores and Remy barely suppressed the urge to run for the exit. "Please don' do dis..."

 

A light flickered and the hologram appeared. "Too late," Scott whispered. Suddenly Remy's scream echoed through the Danger Room and he reclaimed the Cajun's hand. "Shhh... everything will be all right." Remy had closed his eyes to keep the hologram out, but..." Open your eyes, Remy. Trust me. It's just a hologram and I'll stay... I won't leave you."

 

Remy shook violently. Opening his eyes, he flinched away from the hologram. Mon Dieu, it really resembled Hugo! Scott's memory was uncanny and the other man had remembered all the details. "Stop it... please make him go 'way..." Frozen, he stared at the hologram and suddenly... "Non!"

 

"What is it, Remy, tell me!" Scott captured the fleeing Cajun in a hug. "Tell me..."

 

"I'm back in de room... he's dere and... it hurts... can' fight him off. Philippe?" Remy's unseeing eyes looked about, searching for his dead friend. "Philippe, it hurts... make him stop... am bleedin'..." Remy collapsed on his knees and Scott went down with him. "Don' want him to fuck me, please make it stop, make it stop!"

 

Scott held him close and rubbed his back soothingly. "Remy, look at me?" It took him several minutes of coaxing to make Remy look at him. "Yeah, that's it, look at me..." Remy's violent reaction had taken him aback and he chided himself; he should have known Remy would suffer flashbacks. "You trust me, don't you, Remy?"

 

"Oui... mais make him go 'way, please?" Pleadingly, Remy looked up. "Can' do dis..."

 

"Yes, you can." Scott supported Remy as they got back to their feet. "I want you to turn around and look at him."

 

"Non! Don' make me do dat!" Remy struggled against Scott's hold, but found that the other man wasn't letting him go. "Please, Scott... please."

 

"We're going to turn around and you're going to look at him. Remy, I'm here. I'm holding you. It's only a hologram... it can't hurt you."

 

"Mais I remember him hurtin' me!" Remy yelled, feeling helpless and out of control.

 

"You were a nine year old boy back then. You're not a child anymore. You have to face him and realize he can't hurt you anymore. Let's turn around... slowly." Scott pulled Remy along until they stood in front of Hugo. Remy's eyes were glued to the hologram; his body tensed, then went limp. "You're doing great, Remy..."

 

Shivers ran down his spine, looking into Hugo's eyes and Remy wished Scott would let go of him, but the other man had a tight hold on him. Feeling like he was nine years old again, he relived the pain Hugo had inflicted when the bastard had pushed inside. "W-w-anna l-leave..." he stuttered.

 

"Remy, what do you feel?"

 

"Fear..."

 

"What about anger?" Scott hoped he could pull this off. He was no psychologist, didn't know a thing about helping survivors, but he was doing his best, acting on pure instinct.

 

"Anger?" Remy cocked his head. He had been afraid for so long that he had never questioned his feelings, but now he realized he was feeling more than fear... "Oui, I'm angry." This bastard had taken his virginity, had raped him when he had been only nine years old, had contributed to ruining his life and rendering him incapable of trusting people.

 

"Talk to me..." Scott encouraged.

 

"I never knew it would hurt dat much... I had seen Philippe gettin' fucked by his johns, mais it hurt so bad..."

 

Scott was increasingly having trouble controlling his own rage, hearing Remy's admission. "I'm sorry that happened to you..."

 

Remy tilted his head, as if listening to words only he could understand. "I'm angry... he hurt me so bad... de li'l boy is angry... he's kickin' and screamin'..."

 

"Why don't you let it out, Remy? Why don't you let go of that anger and hurt?" Scott held his breath, knowing they had reached a crucial point. From Remy's pockets he removed the bo staff, extended it and placed it in Remy's hand. "Don't fight the anger, Remy..."

 

Suddenly Remy moved away from him and he allowed it. Smiling contently, he watched Remy aim his bo staff at the hologram. The staff descended and if Hugo had been real, his skull would have split like a ripe melon. "Yes, that's it," he encouraged Remy. "Let it out."

 

The hologram took the beating Remy delivered and in the end, Scott's voice terminated the program. The hologram flickered and then disappeared. Remy was panting hard. His eyes glowed with a frightening intensity and Scott kept his distance. "Remy, can you hear me? Remy?"

 

"I've been 'fraid of him for all dese years..." Remy sobbed as he dropped his bo staff. Going down onto his knees, he wrapped his arms around his waist and rocked hard. "I never realized I could fight him off... 'ways felt like a chile when I saw his face in my nightmares."

 

Scott, realizing how emotionally exhausted Remy was, sat on his heels beside the Cajun and slowly folded an arm around the other man's waist. "How do you feel now?"

 

"Betta!" Remy shook his head in disbelief. "I feel betta! Don' know why, mais..." Slumping forward, he landed in Scott's arm. "sfunny..."

 

"What is?" Scott reacted at once and dragged Remy to his feet, grabbing the bo staff as he rose. You're never going to make it back to the boathouse... I'll take you to your room instead. Supporting Remy, he guided the Cajun into the corridor and then he headed for Remy's room. "What's funny?"

 

"Never t'ought I could do 'way wit' de fear, mais I did... don' feel 'fraid anymore..."

 

"Just pleasantly tired, I guess."

 

"Oui." Remy actually smiled. "Was a bon ideé..." Now that the emotional storm had past, he grew more aware of his surroundings. "Where are we goin'?"

 

"Your room," Scott informed him. Reaching the door to Remy's room, he opened it and led Remy to the bed. "Sit down before you keel over."

 

Bonelessly, Remy collapsed on his bed and curled up in a tight ball. "My bed... missed my bed... poppa gave it to me..."

 

Scott smiled, pushing back the covers. He briefly considered undressing Remy, but decided against it. Remy was doing well and he didn't want to risk a bad flashback, so he manhandled Remy until he was in the center of the bed. Just as he was about to tuck the Cajun in, Remy reached for him and got hold of his shirt.

 

"You're stayin'..." Sleepily, Remy pulled Scott closer until the other man was forced to lie down beside him.

 

"Okay, you win," Scott teased, relieved that his plan had worked. He pulled up the comforter, tucked them in and stared at the sleeping man beside him. Remy lay facing him, curled up in fetal position and holding his hand, clutching it close to his chest.

 

No, I'm not attracted to him... It's only been seven months... I can't have these thoughts... these feelings. Determined to fight this attraction, Scott froze as Remy moved closer. The Cajun's head now rested against his shoulder and Remy's arms sneaked across his waist, holding him tightly. I'm not attracted to him... I'm not falling in love with Remy... I'm not!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter 3

Creed

 

Hum... this feels nice... A warm body rested in front of him and had molded itself to his body. Scott smiled, as he began to wake up. Yeah, definitely nice... Still half asleep, the warm body in his arms aroused him. Growing hard, he shifted in the bed, moving even closer to his bed partner. Holding Jean never felt better.

 

Suddenly, he jerked awake. Hold that thought! Jean died months ago and she isn't the one in bed with me, so who is? Staying motionless, he merely opened his eyes. Auburn hair? Remy, fuck, it's Remy! Yeah, I remember now... he faced Hugo in the Danger Room and then I dragged him up here so he could rest. He wouldn't let go and pulled me into bed with him. We fell asleep, but... damn it, I'm hard! This can't be happening! He's giving me a hard-on! I don't like men! Never have... He chuckled softly. Jean would have loved this one! What do I do now? If I move I'll wake up him up, and if I don't he might wake up anyway and how do I explain my hard-on? I don't understand it myself. Maybe it's just because I haven't had any sex these last few months... maybe it's meaningless.

 

Scott continued to debate the matter privately, but failed to reach a decision. In the end, he judged it wise to get out of bed now, accepting the risk of waking Remy in the process, but at least that way the other man wouldn't wake with an erection poking his ass! Letting go of Remy, he pulled back and was about to roll onto his back, when Remy stirred. Fuck, he's a light sleeper...

 

"What's goin' on?" Remy's eyes flashed open, and he froze, feeling the warm body spooned behind... a very much aroused body... 

 

"Shit, Remy... I can explain this. We fell asleep and..." Scott suddenly was at a loss for words. Lying to Remy didn't feel right either.

 

Remy took pity on him. "We're only human, even you Scott. Your body reacted to de warmt'... it's been a while..."

 

Scott swallowed hard. "I don't want you to feel threatened..." They had just exorcised Remy's personal demon and he hoped the Cajun trusted him enough to know that this was different. "Yeah, I'm hard, but it doesn't mean..."

 

Remy bit his bottom lip, thankful that Scott couldn't see him. He was hard as well and although it should have surprised him, it didn't. He had been in love with Scott for years now and although he still didn't feel completely comfortable with a man, he did trust Scott. The whole situation reminded him of being with Mike, that one time.

 

But this time he wouldn't settle for a one-night-stand. He wanted to be in a long-term relationship, in which they were committed to each other and he doubted that Scott was ready to take that step yet, even if the other man was in love with him. It was best to let Scott off the hook gently. "What's de time?" He changed their topic on purpose, giving Scott a way out.

 

Scott took it. "Almost nine." He decided on a course of action. "We should take a shower, change our clothes and grab a bite to eat."

 

Remy's expression grew sad. "Oui, sounds like a plan. I'm goin' back to de boathouse and you can go back to your own rooms." This was good-bye, but not before he had a chance to thank Scott for hanging in there with him. "Merci, Scott. I could never have faced Hugo 'lone. Means a lot to me dat you helped, dat you stayed." He started to sit upright, but hissed, surprised, as Scott refused to let him go. The other man's arms remained locked around him. "Cyke?"

 

Scott drew in a deep breath. "How are you doing, Remy? Last night was hard on you and I don't want you to stay at the boathouse on your own. Why don't you stay here? It's time to come home."

 

Home... de mansion ain' my home, Scott. Buildings mean rien to me! It's de people dat count. And oui, I'm tempted to stay 'cause I'd be close to you, mais wakin' up like dis has shown me dat I need to put some distance between us. Dis is what I want. I want to wake up like dis for de rest of my life, mais I can' have it... and I'm puttin' you in a difficult position by not distancin' myself. I can' allow you to find out 'bout my feelings. Bein' dis close to you will make me give 'way my secret and I can' take dat risk.

 

"Remy?" Worried, Scott rubbed the Cajun's arms. "Hey, are you listening?"

 

Remy shivered, as Scott's fingers caressed his skin through the fabric of his shirt. Stop it! It ain' a caress! He's jus' makin' sure you ain' freakin' out!

 

"Hey, Remy, turn around?" Scott pulled the Cajun onto his back and continued to manhandle the other man until Remy was facing him. Remy's eyes were draped with some unknown emotion. "Did I freak you out just now? I know you're probably still trying to deal with Hugo and then I... I shouldn't have spooned up behind you..."

 

"Stop babblin', homme..." Remy managed a reassuring smile. "You didn' freak me out and oui, I'm still dealin' wit' Hugo's sudden appearance, mais I can handle it now. I feel betta, stronger since last night and I have you to t'ank for it. How did you know what to do?"

 

Scott shrugged his shoulders once. "I'd be pissed off if someone had done that to me... I just tried to release your anger."

 

"It worked." Remy wiggled away from Scott and this time the other man allowed it, releasing him from the embrace.

 

"I really want you to stay at the mansion, Remy."

 

"I ain' sure 'bout dat," Remy said, thoughtfully. "De ladies don' want me 'round."

 

"But the guys do. Come on, Remy, stay." Scott propped himself up on his elbow and watched Remy get to his feet and head for the bathroom. That went better than I hoped! I was so embarrassed, waking up like that! I can't believe I grew hard because I was holding him. That didn't happen when we stayed at the boathouse that month... and even back then I sometimes woke up holding him in my arms... But he had felt mentally blocked seven months ago, emotionally drained and everything had seemed hopeless. Living without Jean had seemed impossible, but so many things had changed since then. And Remy's been at the heart of that change. I still miss Jean, but... Come on, Summers, admit you like spending time with Remy! You're as protective of him as you were of Jean and... No, I don't like men in that way!

 

"Scott? You sure you're bien?" Remy exited the bathroom again after brushing his teeth. He grabbed a few towels and tried to act casual. Waking up with Scott's hard-on pressed against his ass had been disconcerting. It had given him false hope and it was time to face reality. Scott hadn't been aroused because of him! It had been the warm body, which had made him believe that he was holding Jean. Dis ain' 'bout me!

 

"You never answered my question. Are you staying?"

 

Remy shook his head. "Non, still movin' back to de boathouse." Last night had felt like a rebirth and he needed time to figure out where he stood and what he wanted from life. "Mais you're welcome to stay dere wit' me." He made the offer without ever considering what he would do if Scott accepted it. He was so convinced Scott wouldn't accompany him back to the boathouse that the other man's words startled him.

 

"Then I'm coming with you." Puzzled, Scott noticed the sudden distress on Remy's face. "What? I thought you invited me to tag along!" What the hell are you doing, Summers? You can't do this! Remember, you love Jean. You can't possibly be interested in Remy... But I am... damn it, I felt like this when I realized I was in love with Jean... Ignoring the feelings and the attraction won't make them go away. I'm not ready yet to act on them and I have no idea how Remy feels about this... I want to strengthen our friendship first and then we'll see what happens. Maybe I'll watch Jean's recorded message again. She did tell me she was okay with me loving again... I have her blessing and she'd want me to be happy...

 

"Scott? You're spacin' out on me, homme." Remy didn't know what to make of Scott's facial expression. A smile appeared on Scott's face and his eyes narrowed. "Scott?"

 

Scott grinned. "Why don't you take that shower and we'll head back to the boathouse?" Scott rose to his feet, stretched and felt reborn now that he had made up his mind. He would court Remy and see what happened next. "I'll meet you at the boathouse in an hour. I'm going to take a shower myself." And check on the messages and talk to the professor. Hopefully there aren't any urgent matters to take care of. I want to spend some time with Remy. "I could be running late, considering the things I have to take care of, Remy, but I do plan on staying with you at the boathouse."

 

His eyes widened, suddenly realizing that Scott was serious. The other man really planned on staying with him at the boathouse! My big mout' got me into trouble 'again, merde!

 

He sighed, relieved as Scott left his room, needing some privacy to think about this unexpected development. After entering the bathroom, he quickly took off his clothes, stepped into the shower cabin and relaxed as the warm water cascaded down his tense muscles. He wasn't sure how he felt about Scott staying close. It had been his most secret desire that the other man would see through his pretence and keep him company, but now that Scott had taken that step, he felt insecure. Why was Scott sticking around? Oui, he could scan Scott and find out what was motivating the man, but that meant invading Scott's privacy and he refused to trespass like that. He had to find out the old-fashioned way... ask.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Are you sure about this, Scott?" Charles smiled gently. Scott had told him that he wanted to stay at the boathouse instead of the mansion. Scott was trying to make things up to Remy, but why?

 

"I'm sure, sir. Remy needs support and I don't want him to be alone. We almost lost him because we didn't see what was happening to him these last six months. I want to keep a close eye on him." Scott felt uncomfortable beneath Charles' stare.

 

"Is that the only reason why you want to stay at the boathouse? To keep an eye on him?" He hoped Scott would finally confide in him. You're broadcasting warmth and affection without even knowing it.

 

"No, it's not the only reason..." Scott drew in a deep breath. Did he want Charles to know the truth? He still felt ashamed for being attracted to Remy. Jean had only been dead for seven months! But she wants me to love again... to be happy...

 

"And what's the other reason?" Charles decided against telling Scott that he could easily pick up on the other man's affectionate thoughts for Remy. It would be best if Scott faced the facts and told him.

 

Scott looked away. Although the professor couldn't see his eyes, he still felt exposed, knowing damn well that Xavier could read his thoughts if the professor wanted to. "I never expected it to happen."

 

"What?"

 

"That I would develop certain feelings for Remy," Scott admitted in a raw tone.

 

"What kind of feelings?" Charles wanted to hear Scott say the words. He had to make sure that his protégé accepted the truth.

 

"I'm attracted to him." Scott cleared his throat and rested his head against the headrest of the chair. "It started out subtly, sir. I got worried when he absorbed my depression and later... during that month I spent at the boathouse I got to know him better and to care about him. This morning I woke up and... my body was telling me it liked having Remy close. I was scared I had spooked him..."

 

"Spooked Remy?" Charles grew alert. Why would Scott be worried that he had spooked Remy by feeling attracted to him?

 

"I can't tell you, sir. Remy doesn't want anyone to know what happened in his childhood, but it's bad."

 

"Remy told me."

 

"He what?" Scott almost leapt from his chair.

 

"While you were helping Lilandra, Remy and I talked. He told me about his time on the streets and what he had to do in order to survive."

 

"But he told me no one else knew!" Confused, Scott paced in front of Charles' desk.

 

"Maybe he was so upset that he forgot?" Charles steered his hoverchair toward Scott. "Scott, these feelings you mentioned... care to elaborate?"

 

Scott shrugged his shoulders. "I've never before been attracted to a man, that's why this is so damn confusing and then there's Jean... she's only been dead for seven months and dating again doesn't feel right. It's too soon, isn't it?"

 

Charles ignored Scott's last question and probed deeper. "Is it lust? A need to experiment or...?"

 

Scott firmly shook his head. "It's not lust... it never was about lust. I felt the same thing with Jean. It was about her personality, and now it's about Remy's. He really wants to help people, but no one ever sees that. He's alone, and yet he never gives up. His strength still surprises me. If it had been me on the streets instead of Remy, I wouldn't have turned out as well. At this point I'm not interested in pursuing the sexual side of my attraction. I want to get to know him better, build a solid relationship and then... I don't even know if Remy's interested in me. Considering his past I doubt it."

 

Charles licked his lips, realizing how delicate this matter was. "Do you love him?"

 

Scott's brow grew knitted. "I asked myself that question after leaving Remy's room. I don't know if I love him... I feel affection for him and that has to grow into love... at least that's how it happened with Jean. But I feel strongly about Remy."

 

"So this isn't a fling? A temporary infatuation? Is this going to be a long-term relationship? A committed one?" Charles chose his words carefully. "Remy has suffered greatly in the past and if this is just a fling you shouldn't pursue this, but if it's more..."

 

"Then what?" Scott turned around and stared at the professor. He knew the expression in Charles only too well. The older man was holding back.

 

"Then you should make this relationship work."

 

"Respectfully, sir, but I don't even know if Remy's interested."

 

Charles moved back to his desk and leaned back in his hoverchair. "Jean didn't leave you only one message, but two. She left explicit instructions for when you were allowed to watch the second recording."

 

Scott shook his head in disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me? She left me another message? I can't believe you hid this from me!"

 

"She only wanted you to watch it in the event you felt attracted to Remy." Charles didn't know exactly what the message was about, but he had a pretty good idea. Jean had probably known about the attraction between the two men. "Do you wish to view the recording now or...?

 

"I demand to see it now!" Scott felt betrayed. Charles had known about the second message and the professor had never told him! "I want to see it right now!"

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Scott felt nervous as he was waiting for Cerebro to start the program. He shivered at the thought of seeing Jean again, and not knowing what the message was about made him apprehensive. All he knew was that this was about Remy...

 

The hologram suddenly flashed alive and it took him by surprise. Instinctively, he backed away from it. "Oh, Jean..." She was beautiful and her gentle smile made her even more attractive.

 

"Scott..."

 

Hearing her voice made his eyes water and he blinked away the unshed tears. They would sting beneath the visor and it made him uncomfortable, especially when Logan was around. The Canadian could probably smell the saline in the air. "Jean..."

 

"Scott, I'm glad you decided to try again." Jean's smile brightened. "You made an excellent choice. Remy's so right for you."

 

"Huh?" Stunned, Scott stared at the hologram. "How could you possibly know...?" But the hologram continued the recorded message and he listened closely.

 

"I talked to Remy after he returned to the mansion from Antarctica. It was then that I found out he was an empath as well as a telepath. And yes, his shields were strong, but not that strong and I easily read his secret desires in his mind. Did you know that Remy has been in love with you for years? He's had a crush on you since joining the team."

 

"No..." That was impossible! He would have noticed! "He dated Rogue!" But then he realized the truth. "He dated Rogue to mislead us. He didn't want us to know the truth."

 

The program continued and Jean's smile grew sad. "He never wanted to come between us, honey. He told me that he respected our love and he never made a move on you because he didn't want to hurt me. He suffered in silence all these years and that's why I'm thrilled that you have developed feelings for him."

 

Scott was speechless. Staring at the hologram, he continued to shake his head. I can't believe she knew!

 

"Actually, I gave Remy my blessing to act on his feelings if something happened to me." Jean's eyes were swimming with tears. "You're watching this recording, which means I'm dead... Scott, I want you to be happy, but you’ve probably figured that one out by now. But guilt and misplaced loyalty is keeping you from acting on your feelings for Remy. I know you, Scott!"

 

Scott managed his first smile. "Yeah, you do."

 

"I'm dead, honey. There's no reason why you have to remain faithful to my memory. Choose the living! Remy loves you and you have feelings for him. It's okay to act on those feelings. Honey, I want you to act on them!"

 

A lump had formed in his throat and Scott fought back his tears. "Jean, I love you so much..."

 

Jean's expression grew distant. "Make him happy, Scott, and in return Remy will make you happy as well. Don't let him slip away." The hologram faded and Jean was gone.

 

Scott rubbed his brow, massaged his temples and tried to truly accept what Jean had told him. "She wants me to love Remy... she wants me to make this work." A goofy grin surfaced on his face. "Jean, you're the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for recording these messages. I would never have admitted to liking Remy in that way if you hadn't given me permission to love again. I won't disappoint you, I promise." Turning around, he headed for the exit. "Remy's, it's about time we talked."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Remy raced toward Burger King, loving the way the wind moved through his hair. It had been ages since he had ridden his bike and he had missed the sensation of freedom that usually overwhelmed him. Mattie would chide him for not wearing a helmet, but he didn't care. Last night he had finally done away with a fear that had been his constant companion for so many years and riding his bike at this reckless speed made him feel alive.

 

He was on his way to Burger King to prove to himself that he wasn't afraid any longer. Hugo wasn't chasing him away again. He was done with being scared and intimidated. This time he would defend himself and tell Hugo off. No one was messing with him ever again!

 

Feeling victorious and high on adrenaline, he pulled up to the Burger King and shut down the engine. He strutted into the Burger King and scanned his surroundings; Hugo was nowhere in sight. Does dat disappoint me or am I relieved... secretly? I faced his hologram, mais I never faced him in person. Doesn' really matter. I'm t'rough wit' bein' scared!

 

Only facing Hugo for real would show him if he had truly dealt with his fears, but he settled for feeling euphoric. After ordering a shake, he left and headed for his bike.

 

And what 'bout facin' Scott? Remy straddled his bike, but didn't kick start it yet. While sipping his milkshake, he recalled waking up in Scott's arms. Feeling the other man's erection against his ass had surprised him. Even confused him a little, but he was relieved that he hadn't been scared.

 

Can' be dat lucky... I've had dis crush on him for years and rien happened. He never indicated he was interested in men... in me. He hasn’ change orientation 'cause Jean's dead. De poor guy probably hasn’ had sex dese last seven mont's and his body reacted instinctively. I was close and warm... and Scott grew aroused. Mais I would sell my soul for his love... I 'ways t'ought I knew what Scott was 'bout, mais t'ings ain' de way dey seemed. He cares 'bout me and de ot'ers on de team... he ain' cold or arrogant at all.

 

Remy started his bike and headed for the mansion. Was he serious when he said he was stayin' at de boathouse? He probably only said it to make me feel bien. No way Scott's stayin' at de boathouse... mais what if he is? What if he's serious? Mon Dieu, don' do dis to me! I'm in love wit' de man!

 

"Gotcha!"

 

The victorious howl froze the blood in his veins. A second later, Creed slammed into him and knocked him off his bike, sending him onto the hard concrete. His head connected with the road and he almost lost consciousness. Blood dripped from his nose and into his mouth and the metallic tang of blood made him nauseous. His vision became blurry and red spots danced in front of his eyes.

 

"Told ya I'd be back, Cajun." Creed stood over him, sniffing his prey. LeBeau was bleeding and he was tempted to taste the thief. "Later," he growled impatiently.

 

Realizing the danger he was in, Remy tried to struggle to his feet, but a strong hand kept him down and vertigo hit hard, causing him to empty his stomach on the concrete. Something cold snapped into place around his throat and his eyes almost bulged from their sockets. Creed had collared him, again! "No!" He struggled harder, but lost his balance and collapsed on the concrete. He couldn't focus his eyes, couldn't think clearly and a sudden bout of dry heaves rendered him helpless.

 

His left hand remained locked around the Cajun's neck and he watched, amused, as his prey struggled against the hold. He cursed as LeBeau began to throw up. The acid smell offended his nose, but he waited for the Cajun to finish before hauling him to his feet. Lifting LeBeau until the Cajun's feet no longer touched the concrete, he grinned. "Yer mine, LeBeau... Ya'll do as I tell you to... Play yer cards right, Cajun and maybe ya'll live."

 

Remy lacked the strength to keep his eyes open. He hung helpless in Creed's hold and tried to free himself one last time, finding he couldn't move at all. Panicking, he tried to kick at Creed, but nothing happened. His head throbbed and another bout of dry heaves made his eyes water.

 

"Not again," Creed growled and swung a right at the Cajun, which rendered him unconscious. "Ya can throw up when I ain't around, Cajun..." Creed stalked back to his hiding place. LeBeau was a telepath and an empath. Birdie had only been a telepath and he wondered what would happen once Remy took her place. Grinning, he flung LeBeau over his shoulder, ignoring the Cajun's injuries. "Yer gonna help me get back in control... you're mine..."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Remy, where the hell are you?" Scott was growing worried. Three hours ago, he had returned to the boathouse, expecting to find Remy preparing breakfast, but the Cajun hadn't been there. He had started pacing and over the next two hours he had fixed lunch and hauled his personal things upstairs, expecting Remy to show up any moment, but the Cajun hadn't. Remy had left.

 

Scott came to a standstill in front of the kitchen table. He had hoped to talk things over with Remy and to get everything in the open, but the Cajun was missing.

 

Worried, Scott picked up his coat and left the house. He walked over to his car, opened the door and slipped behind the steering wheel. "Where are you? Where did you go?"

 

Whenever he had lost sight of Jean their telepathic link had informed him of her whereabouts and her condition. But he wasn't linked to Remy and had no idea where to start searching. Assuming he wants to be found!

 

Where do I start? Where would he go? Damn, he's a skilled thief. He knows where to hide if he doesn't want to be found. He's not on the premises, so I can rule that one out... where did you go, Remy? He didn't know why he was this worried, but he was. It was urgent that he find Remy and make sure the Cajun was unharmed.

 

A sudden rush of panic swept through him and feeling paranoid, he looked about, scanning his surroundings for intruders. "Remy, what's going on?" His hands, which rested on the steering wheel, shook violently. Something was wrong, terribly wrong and he didn't know where Remy was! "Damn you, LeBeau!"

 

He keyed the ignition and quickly left the mansion grounds. Once he passed the gate, he stopped, wondering which way to go. "Burger King... you went back there, didn't you? After last night you had to confront your fears alone." Quickly, he turned left and headed for Burger King. In the meantime, the sense of dread continued to build. His stomach was contracting and a headache building. A sharp pain swept through his head and he had to pull over and stop the car. His vision was blurry and he couldn't tell where he was driving. "Remy, what’s happened?"

 

He waited for the pain to pass and then continued his drive. "Fuck...no..." Remy's bike blocked the road and he pulled over. After leaving the car, he quickly examined the scene. Someone had thrown up and he also found blood and a handful of Remy's hair. "An accident? Why doesn't that feel right?" Remy was an excellent driver and had never had an accident before. "And there's no other car or bike. You didn't have an accident."

 

Suddenly suspicious, he looked about again and found a tiny piece of Remy's shirt stuck to a branch. "Why would you go into the forest? Why not call for help?" His heart missed a beat, finding more blood. Should he go back and get the others to help him search for Remy? No, I can't waste any time. What if he's in a bad way and he needs help? Medical attention? I need to find him first!

 

Scott moved deeper into the forest and continued to find shreds of Remy's clothing. Sitting on his heels, he examined the tracks. He wasn't a skilled tracker, but by watching Logan he had picked up a few things. These tracks are deeper than they're supposed to be... one person only... but... what if Remy isn't alone? What if he was attacked and this attacker is carrying him? But who... Fuck, Creed! The bastard gave up way too easy the last time we fought! He kidnapped Remy once before... It must be Creed.

 

Aware of the danger he was in, Scott proceeded, following the tracks.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Feeling nauseous and miserable, Remy clawed his way back to the surface and regained consciousness only to stare into Creed's ugly visage. His hands and feet were tied again, leaving him no room to maneuver. The collar hung heavily around his neck and he barely suppressed the urge to throw up again. "Whad-d-da you w-want?" His speech was slightly slurred and he was having trouble phrasing his questions. Had he suffered a concussion as well?

 

Creed grinned. He was sitting opposite the Cajun and stretched his long legs. "Yer gonna help me, LeBeau... I've been searchin' for a suitable telepath for a long time... Ya'll do."

 

"Telepath?" Why did Creed need a telepath? Something the mad man had said the last time he had kidnapped him, returned to him. Creed had said he was going to train him. Shivering, he tried to compose himself, but the pounding headache made it impossible. Suddenly, Creed lunged forward and grabbed his throat. Unable to draw in his next breath, he stared at Creed, reading the bloodlust in the other man's mind.

 

"I love it when they struggle..." Creed said, amused. "Don't make it easy on me... fight me, Cajun..."

 

His head jerked back and he screamed as Creed's out of control emotions slammed into his mind. The bloodlust, the rage, the animalistic urges invaded his being. Acting instinctively, he fought Creed, tried to throw him out of his mind, but failed. Creed was gaining momentum. A terrified wail left his lips as he finally lost consciousness.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Scott froze in his tracks. A sharp scream, followed by a keening wail echoed through the forest. "Damn it!" He immediately recognized Remy's voice, even felt the Cajun in his mind, but the younger man felt incredibly weak.

 

He sped up and started to run. He barely avoided the branches and at times, they slapped into his face, breaking the skin. Although he was bleeding, he didn't pay it any attention and continued to run. He was getting closer... and closer...

 

Creed suddenly stumbled from a cave and fell to his knees, staring blankly at the sun. Scott charged him, knocked Creed off of his knees and used his optic blast to take out his opponent. Creed collapsed and no longer presented any danger. Satisfied that he had dealt with Remy's nemesis, he proceeded into the cave, fairly sure he would find the Cajun there.

 

"Remy? Remy, where are you?" It was dark inside the cave and his eyes needed time to adapt to the darkness. A moan, coming from his right, showed him which direction to move in. "Remy? It's me, Scott..."

 

He suddenly came to a halt. His eyes made out Remy's form in the dark and Scott sucked in his breath. A Genoshan collar hung around Remy's neck, but it was open and not active. Why had Creed bothered to put it around Remy's neck? He could worry about that later. First, he had to find out if Remy needed medical attention. He went down on his heels and gently cupped Remy's chin in the palm of his hand. Pushing back some blood-covered locks, he finally got a good view of Remy's face. His brow was covered in blood and a nasty gash was situated behind his right ear.

 

"Remy, can you hear me? Remy?" Scott almost pulled back when the stench of vomit assaulted him. "Looks like you got a concussion, Remy. Let's hope you didn't break anything."

 

The low, guttural growl took him aback and Scott started to turn around to face Creed. But wait... the growl isn't coming from behind me... it's... Remy! He never fully realized what happened when Remy launched himself at him. The Cajun's fingernails dug into his skin, causing more blood to run down his face. Staring into the wide, feral eyes, Scott acted too late. Remy was already lunging for his throat. Ducking, he tried to get away from him, but failed completely. He banged the back of his head against the rocky wall and went down. The last thing he heard was Remy's victorious howl.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter 4

Realizing the truth.

 

Scott's eyes opened slowly. His head was pounding, and he cringed when the pain sliced through his skull. Instinctively, he doubled over and emptied his stomach. Shaking like a leaf, he looked up, startled to realize he was no longer in the cave. How much time had passed? The sun had still been shining when he had gone looking for Remy and now it was dark.

 

Remy! What the hell happened? He attacked me... But the Cajun hadn't hurt him. The headache was a result of his collision with the cave wall. Fighting his panic, he searched his surroundings. "Remy? Where are you?"

 

"Gumbo's unconscious, Cyke."

 

Bright eyes flashed from the darkness. "Logan?" Scott managed to push himself to his feet by using the trunk of a tree to support himself. "What happened? And why are you here?"

 

"Good thing I followed ya," Logan said, emerging from the darkness. "About time ya woke up. We got work to do. Couldn't haul both yer sorry asses back to the mansion."

 

Scott cocked his head, hoping the headache would fade in time. He quickly checked himself for additional injuries, but he was all right except for the headache. "Where's Remy? I can't believe he attacked me!"

 

"Went for yer throat, huh?" Logan took hold of Scott's arm and pulled the other man along. "I had to take him out. I got here just in time. Gumbo was ready to rip yer throat out."

 

"But why?" He recognized the auburn hair as moonbeams gently traveled over the ground. Remy, clearly unconscious, was lying on the damp, cold earth

 

"He lost control," Logan mused. "I didn't wanna knock him out, but didn't have a choice. He tried to take me out too."

 

"Where's Creed?" Scott sat on his heels beside the unconscious Cajun.

 

"Creed?" His claws emerged from his knuckles and Logan sniffed the air. "I knew he was close, but... ya saw him?"

 

"He stumbled out of the cave just as I arrived. I went inside to check on Remy, afraid that Creed had hurt him. That's when Remy attacked me." Scott turned Remy over until he could see the younger man's face. Animal rage contorted the usually calm features. "I don't get it. Why attack me?"

 

Logan joined them, took hold of Remy's arm and hauled the Cajun over his shoulder. "Hopefully Charlie can figure it out." He didn't want to tell Scott just how well he knew that possessed look in Remy's eyes. The same demonic expression filled Creed's eyes when bloodlust controlled that maniac. The hair at the back of his neck stood rigid, realizing the danger Remy presented in his current state.

 

As they headed for the mansion, Logan continued to sniff the air. He didn't want Creed sneaking up on him, not while they were weakened. Scott was trying hard to pretend that he was okay, but he smelled the acid bubbling in the other man's stomach and hoped Scott wasn't going to throw up again. "How's the head?"

 

"I'll survive," Scott said, calmly. "I'm more worried about Remy."

 

"I'll take ya back to the mansion and then I'll track down Creed. I got some questions..."

 

///

 

Disorientated, he stumbled through the forest. Branches and fallen trees blocked his path, but he continued running. He didn't know where he was, what had happened or who he was. His memory was blank, and feeling frightened, he was putting distance between himself and the cave where he had woken up minutes ago. The howl, which had come from inside the cave, had alarmed him and he had started to run blindly.

 

"This ain't right... somethin's wrong..." He didn't question how he knew things had gone wrong... A vague memory surfaced; he had trusted his instincts before and, encouraged, he picked up speed, trying to find his way out of the forest.

 

///

 

"My stars and garters! What happened! Put Remy on the exam table, and Scott, sit down!" Hank rushed into action, suddenly faced with two patients. He had been working on his research when Logan's roar had echoed through the lab.

 

Hank immediately checked Remy's vital signs. The Cajun's heart was racing and his hands were contracted into fists, even in his unconscious state. "Logan, I need information!"

 

"I knocked Gumbo out. He attacked Cyke. Had his hands around his neck when I found them." Logan left Remy to Hank's care and checked on Scott, who sat slumped in the chair. "Head still hurtin'?"

 

"Yeah..." He didn't want to speak, didn't want to listen to the noise all around him. Why couldn't the throbbing in his head stop? "How's Remy?"

 

"Why is our Acadian friend collared?" Hank quickly removed the already open collar and placed it next to Remy on the exam table.

 

"Must be Creed's doin'. Bastard tried collarin' Gumbo before." Now that they no longer needed him, he headed for the doorway again. Creed was still out there and it was up to him to find his nemesis.

 

"Logan, I need some help in dealing with these two. Ask the professor and Warren to join me before you leave?" Hank hooked Remy up to a monitor to register his heartbeat.

 

"Sure." Logan nodded once and then left the lab.

 

Hank noticed the blood and dirt beneath Remy's fingertips. Scott's face and throat showed marks, which could stem from Remy's fingernails... Scott had mentioned that Remy had attacked him. "Scott, what happened exactly?"

 

Scott closed his eyes, trying to lock out the lights. "I think that Creed knocked Remy off his bike and then dragged him off to a cave. When I arrived, Creed stumbled outside and Remy attacked me... he growled..."

 

"Who, Creed did?"

 

"No, Remy..." Alarmed, Scott fought down his discomfort and struggled to his feet. "He growled and then went for my throat... the last thing I heard was a victorious howl. At first, I thought it was Creed, but when I realized that it was Remy, it was already too late."

 

Hank raised a puzzled eyebrow. "Hopefully we'll get our answers when Gambit wakes up."

 

"Henry?" Charles steered his hoverchair toward the exam table, already trying to get a reading from Remy's mind, but the Cajun's barriers were impossible to breach. Caught off-guard, Charles' eyes widened, feeling how tight Remy's defenses were.

 

Warren entered next, and headed toward them as well. Logan hadn't given him any details. The Canadian had merely told him that Hank needed him in the medlab. Hank had taught him some basic medical skills so he could help tend patients. His eyes first sought out Scott and he frowned, seeing how tight the other man's jaw was set. Something real bad had happened. "What's wrong with Remy?"

 

"We don't know yet," Hank whispered, puzzled. "Professor? What do you sense?"

 

"Not much," Charles replied, disappointed. "His defenses are too tight. Scott?"

 

Scott told them what had happened and noticed the deep frown that appeared on Charles' brow. "Sir?"

 

Charles hoped he was wrong. "Scott, when you saw Creed exit the cave... was he as aggressive as usual?"

 

"No," Scott said, thoughtfully. "He seemed weak, maybe a little confused. Creed was acting oddly."

 

"And Remy was violent, and attacked you without reason?" Charles hoped his theory was wrong, but it looked like he had drawn the right conclusion after all.

 

"Yeah, I didn't provoke him, and yet he lashed out. If it hadn't been for Logan..." Scott grew quiet. "How serious is it?"

 

"Very serious." Charles rubbed the bridge of his nose. "This is only a theory, mind you, but it looks like Remy absorbed Creed's animalistic urges, like he absorbed your depression a few months ago."

 

"Sir?" Confused, Warren looked from Remy to Charles. "What are you saying?"

 

Charles suddenly jerked upright in the hoverchair and his face contorted. "My God, Remy's waking up and... his mind is like quicksand... Henry, quickly, collar him!"

 

Hank wondered if he had misunderstood, but Charles' expression told him that the professor was serious. Moving quickly, he grabbed the collar and moved toward the exam table. Suddenly, a sharp, slicing pain moved through his mind and he dropped the collar, clutching his head instead.

 

"He's awake... Warren, Scott, the collar!" Charles focused on the Cajun, trying to dam the raging emotions that were leaking from Remy's mind. The pain grew worse, and he doubled his efforts to manipulate Remy's feelings and thoughts.

 

Warren screamed, as an icy pain slashed through his skull. He collapsed against the wall, panting hard. Gathering his strength, he managed to raise his head. He found Remy's eyes open, and an insane expression flashed from the demonic orbs. The Cajun bared his teeth, growled and tried to sit upright. "Scott! What do we do?" He faltered after taking a step closer to the exam table. Remy moved too quickly and the Cajun's sharp fingernails broke his skin. "Fuck!"

 

Scott was leaning against the exam table. Being the closest to Remy, he tried to move toward the Cajun, but the pain was too bad. "Sir, what...?"

 

Charles gritted his teeth, finally able to withstand Remy's attack. "He's using his empathy against us, Scott... rendering us almost helpless... Talk to him, maybe he'll recognize you." But he doubted Remy would recognize anyone in the frenzied state the Cajun was in right now.

 

The pain caused him to fight for breath, but Scott continued to advance on Remy. He cringed, realizing Remy was clawing Warren's face and the Cajun's fingers were moving toward Warren's throat. Remy's insane grin and diabolical expression took him aback. "Remy? What's going on? Talk to me."

 

Remy spun around, growled and bared his teeth. Cocking his head, he sniffed the air and pounced forward.

 

Scott almost froze in his tracks, seeing Remy fling himself forward. He acted quickly and grabbed Remy's wrists, making sure the Cajun couldn't scratch his face open like he had done to Warren. "Remy, calm down! Everything's fine!" The mental pain was bearable now and he gritted his teeth, trying to control the pain and rage that battered against his mind.

 

Charles moved behind Remy's back and grabbed the collar. Signaling Scott to maneuver Remy toward him, he kept a close eye on the Cajun. He didn't understand how it was possible that Creed had transferred his animalistic urges to Remy, but he vowed to find out. What if it was an accident? What if Creed never expected this to happen? We need to find Creed! He's the only one who can answer those questions.

 

Hank, recovering from the empathic attack, shook his head, trying to clear it of all alien emotions. Charles threw him the collar, which he caught. Remy was getting closer to him and the Cajun had no idea that they were setting him up.

 

"Remy, listen to me. Come on, you know me! It's me, Scott." He held his breath, hearing Remy's enraged growl. The Cajun's contorted features actually scared him. "Remy, please, listen to me! Let me help you! I don't know what's going on, but we're here to help!"

 

Remy cocked his head, stopped growling and actually seemed to listen to his words. "Yeah, that's it, Remy. You know me. It's me, Scott." The red glow in Remy's alien eyes weakened briefly, but then flared again. Just at the Cajun wanted to lunge for him, he signaled Hank to slap on the collar.

 

Infuriated, Remy growled and tried to spin around, but Hank had a tight hold on him. Long arms kept him in place and he flinched violently when the collar closed around his neck. He collapsed as he passed out and hung limply in Hank's arms.

 

The three men stared at each other, shock evident in their eyes. It had taken all three of them to take out Remy!

 

"What a formidable weapon," Hank whispered in an awed tone. "I never realized how powerful he is."

 

"I think no one did," Warren remarked, sarcastically. Grabbing some tissues, he dabbed at the scratches, which Remy's fingernails had left behind on his chin and cheek. "He scratched me open!"

 

Hank eased Remy back down on the exam table and restrained his patient to prevent a repeat performance. "Sir, do you know what happened? Didn't he recognize us?"

 

Charles, composed again, took a deep breath. "We've got a major problem on our hands. To solve it, we need Creed. It won't be easy. Creed might not want this feral side of his character back and Remy will need to lower his shields in order to complete the transfer."

 

Warren's eyes widened. "Are you saying that..."

 

"That Remy isn't himself. Creed's personality is in there as well. We need to transfer it back to the rightful owner." Charles considered his next move. "Hank, check on Scott. Make sure he doesn't have a concussion. And Scott, when you feel up to it, I want you to stay here and to talk to Remy. Maybe hearing your voice will trigger something. He seemed to listen earlier. Warren, disinfect those scratches and assist Hank in whatever way you can."

 

"And what are you going to do, sir?" Scott sat down and let Hank hook him up to a monitor so McCoy could run his tests.

 

"Hopefully Cerebro will help me locate Creed. Logan will have to bring him in and in the meantime, we need to keep a close eye on Remy. He doesn't know what he's doing." Charles steered his hoverchair toward the doorway, realizing he needed help to undo the transfer. And the only one who possesses the knowledge I need is... Sinister.

 

///

 

After what seemed hours, he finally reached a road. A damaged bike lay on its side and he walked toward it. Did he know how to ride a bike? There was only one way to find out. The keys were still in place and it started with a reluctant roar.

 

Looking about, he hesitantly climbed on. Shouldn't he find the owner instead of taking off like this? But he felt like someone was following him and he was very eager to leave this place. But where to go?

 

He took off, heading north, uncertain what fate held in store for him.

 

///

 

Logan had closed his eyes when he had felt Charles reach for him. After absorbing the new information, he realized just how it important it was that he located Creed. "Professor... did I understand correctly? Do ya really think that Creed's 'normal' now? That the bloodlust, his urge to kill and maim is gone?

 

Yes. Creed is no longer the insane maniac we know. He may even be suffering from amnesia. If only I knew how this happened! As far as I can tell Creed isn't a telepath, or an empath. He must have taken Remy by surprise and for some reason Remy's shields were down, allowing Creed in. When he absorbed Scott's depression, he had trouble letting go as well and now he's no longer thinking logically at all.

 

Then ya betta work on findin' a solution. I'll find Creed and haul his sorry ass back to the mansion. Ya can count on me. Just keep Gumbo safe until I'm back. Logan stretched his neck, terminating the telepathic contact. He sure had his work cut out for him.

 

Upon returning to the road, he found that Remy's bike was gone. His sense of smell quickly confirmed that Creed had been close and had probably taken the bike to increase the distance between them.

 

Amnesia, my ass. Creed has as many false memories as I have. He can't tell reality from induced memory. He's out there somewhere, 'ready slaughtering his next victim. If I'm Gumbo's only chance, he's doomed. Come on, Chuck, I know ya can figure this on out!

 

Approaching Scott's abandoned car, he grinned. For once, he was lucky. Although the key was gone, (trust Cyke to remember to take the key) he hot-wired the car. Once the car was running smoothly, he decided to head north... Creed's scent pulled him in that direction.

 

///

 

Hank acknowledged Charles' arrival with a polite nod. They had agreed to meet in the lab, instead of the professor's study so he could keep an eye on his patient.

 

Charles felt drained. Upholding the connection with Logan had sapped a lot of his energy and later, he had tried to contact Sinister, using Cerebro to strengthen his mental powers. Unfortunately, the scientist hadn't responded yet, but he remained hopeful that Sinister had received his message. When they had pulled Remy back from his depression Sinister had just suddenly appeared, without ever bothering to answer his call. "What's our situation?"

 

Hank placed the latest report concerning Remy's condition on the desk in front of him. "Let's start with Scott. He has a light concussion and as long as he doesn't fall asleep, he'll be fine. The cuts on Scott and Warren's faces will heal quickly."

 

"But what about Remy?" Charles moved closer until he sat opposite Hank. "Bad news?"

 

"Physically... he's high on adrenaline right now. His body's tense and even in unconsciousness he seems ready for battle. I've given him a mild sedative and I want to keep him restrained. I suspect you can tell me more concerning his mental health?"

 

"Not much," Charles admitted. "A part of Creed's personality, the primal side, is now controlling Remy's actions. We need to find Creed and reverse the transfer."

 

"But what if Logan can't find Creed? Will Remy stay in this condition?" Hank wrote everything down in Remy's file. He was greatly worried about the Cajun. Remy had been through a lot lately and now his empathy was causing problems again! Last time they had barely managed to pull Remy back from the brink. He still didn't know how Charles had convinced Remy to lower his shields, but the Cajun had listened to the professor's advice and the depression had found a way out. "There must be something we can do!"

 

Charles nodded his head. "Perhaps. Although Creed was never completely sane, he did show signs of control and intelligence. Maybe Remy can learn to control his urges to some extent. But before we can even try to teach him control we'll have to gain his trust first. He's not thinking rationally and sees us as his enemies. That's why he attacked Scott in the first place."

 

Hank gave Charles a thoughtful look. "What do you suggest?"

 

"I asked Scott to stay for a reason. Remy and he have spent a lot of time together these last few months. Remy even helped him deal with losing Jean. Maybe Remy will remember helping Scott, even while Creed's instincts are trying to control his actions." Charles paused. "Henry, could you ask Scott to step in here for a moment? I need to talk to him... in private."

 

"Of course." Hank finished updating the report and filed it. He rose from his chair and left to fetch Scott.

 

///

 

Scott sat quietly beside Remy, every so often stroking back a lock of hair when the Cajun shifted in his sleep. He had watched as Hank administered the sedative, realizing its necessity. Warren was moving about behind him, keeping an eye on them. "Remy, what's going on with you? What did Creed do to you? I promise we'll find a solution, Remy..."

 

"Scott? You've been sitting here for two hours now... you need to drink something." Warren handed Scott some herbal tea Bobby had made. Bobby had taken it upon himself to prepare some sandwiches and to supply them with hot drinks. Warren smiled; Bobby had been rather upset when Hank had forbidden him from entering the medlab, telling the younger man that his patient needed rest. "It's one of Bobby's concoctions. It might smell gross, but it tastes okay.

 

"Thanks, Warren." Although he wasn't thirsty, he accepted the drink and sipped his tea.

 

"You're really worried, aren't you?" He had studied Scott for the last half-hour and had reached the conclusion that something was eluding him.

 

"Yeah, I'm worried." Scott looked at Warren and shook his head, noticing the scratch marks on the other man's face as well. "He's got sharp fingernails."

 

"Good thing he doesn't have claws..." Warren shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry."

 

"No, you're right." Scott pushed back another stray lock. "The sedative is keeping him under and Hank wants him restrained..." Scott frowned, staring at the restraints.

 

"I hope the professor finds a solution," Warren offered, sincerely. "Creed's a bastard for doing this to Remy. I wonder if this was his intention all along. Why did he kidnap Remy that first time?"

 

"He didn't tell me..." Scott sighed and leaned back in his chair. What's happening to me? The mere thought of losing him, hurts. I don't want to lose him to Creed or to insanity. I want him back, whole. Guess this means I can’t run from my feelings any longer. I'm in love with him... maybe it's more already. When I realized something was wrong, my heart ached so badly that I wanted to rip Creed's out. Why did he do this to Remy? Oh, I'm so sorry... Remy, I do love you. I'm so sorry I chickened out and didn't tell you what was going on!

 

"Scott? The professor wants to talk to you... in private." Hank rested his right hand on Scott's shoulder and squeezed gently. "I'll stay with Remy while you're gone. He's in the best hands."

 

"I know that," Scott whispered, gratefully. He slowly rose from his chair, stretching tense and tired muscles, and headed for Hank's office in the back of the medlab.

 

"Sir, you wanted to talk to me?" Scott remained standing in the doorway, trying to read Charles' expression.

 

"Yes. Close the door and take a seat. We need to discuss something very important."

 

Scott did as he was told and sat down opposite Charles. "What do you want to discuss?"

 

"Remy... and your feelings for him." Charles clasped his hands. "We need to reach Remy and being honest with yourself and with him may be the only way to do it."

 

"Sir?" Scott straightened his back, listening intently.

 

"I want to try something," Charles explained. "Once the sedative wears off, you're going to reach out to Remy. Yes, that's a frightening concept, knowing how crushing his empathy is and yet I want you to focus on your feelings for him. We need to establish some sort of contact."

 

"Do you really think that will work? He's tried killing me twice so far."

 

"Because he felt threatened. Scott, he doesn't understand these urges. Remy can't control them. You have to help him control them. Once he realizes you don't mean him any harm, he might turn to you for help. Remy isn't Creed. Their personalities differ greatly."

 

Scott was still unconvinced, but he had already made the decision to try. "I’ll do anything to help him. The way he is now... it's wrong."

 

Contently, Charles nodded his head. "The sedative will wear off in about two hours. Why don't you use that time to rest? Reaching Remy will be a draining experience. I'm sure Henry has an empty bed for you."

 

Realizing their conversation had ended, Scott rose from his chair. "This had better work, sir."

 

Charles' eyes filled with understanding and compassion. I want him back as much as you do, Scott, but only you can bring him back. It's time for you to face your feelings and to admit them to Remy as well. Are you afraid of what the others will think?

 

Yes, I am, Scott admitted. Jean's only been gone for a few months and although I have her permission to date again I still feel like I'm cheating on her. I never imagined that I would fall in love so quickly...

 

"Follow your heart," Charles said, as Scott headed for the doorway. "Always listen to your heart."

 

///

 

"Nothin'!" Logan growled softly, displeased that Creed still eluded him. He had tracked Creed down to this city and he had even located Remy's bike, which Creed had abandoned after he had run out of gas. "He's close... I can smell him..." But the smell was different. Although the essence remained the same, something had changed. The man was sweating less, probably because he wasn't experiencing any adrenaline rushes.

 

"Poor kid..." Logan mused, wondering how Remy was doing. "Don't wanna be in yer shoes." He knew what it was like to go primal, when bloodlust and his ancient instincts controlled him. Remy had never experienced anything like it and wouldn't know how to deal with it.

 

"Creed, it doesn't matter where yer hidin'. I'm gonna find ya and haul ya back to the mansion." But he was running out of time...

 

///

 

"He'll wake up in the next few minutes," Hank announced. He had taken off the collar, as Scott needed to reach out to the empath. "But the sedative is still in his bloodstream; he should be relaxed and immobile." The restraints stayed on. He wasn't going to take any chances.

 

"Give us some privacy?" Scott looked at the three men. Warren, Hank and the professor were concerned about his well-being, having experienced Remy's crushing empathic powers personally.

 

"Be careful, Scott," Warren whispered. "And let us know if you need our help."

 

They backed away from the exam table until they were out of Remy's line of sight.

 

Scott pulled his chair closer to the exam table and placed his right hand over Remy's, gently rubbing the Cajun's knuckles. "Hey, Remy, it's me, Scott. Open your eyes for me?" Remy stirred and Scott held his breath as a low growl escaped the Cajun's throat. "No, you don't need to feel threatened, Remy. You're among friends. You're safe. It's okay to open your eyes and wake up."

 

Remy's eyes flashed open and showed panic and rage. Scott acted at once, moving closer to the Cajun so that Remy could see him. "I'm here, Remy. Remember me? I'm Scott."

 

Large eyes studied him and Scott swallowed hard. Remy's emotions surrounded him and he shared everything; the pain, fear, anger and hope. "Yeah, that's it. Just listen to me. You remember me, don't you? Hey, say something. Talk to me."

 

Remy's eyes narrowed. I'm losing him! What did I do wrong? Damn, he's... Remy, stop struggling! Remy fought against the restraints and the rage in the alien eyes simmered. "Remy, we had to restrain you for your own safety. Once you're feeling better, we'll release you."

 

But Remy retaliated ruthlessly. These people had tied him down and he couldn't deal with being restrained. Lashing out, he howled loudly, pulled at the restraints and charged them.

 

"Scott, get out of the way!" Warren realized the danger. Remy was charging the restraints and the exam table. The explosion would probably knock out the Cajun and Scott as well, if the other man didn't get away in time.

 

Scott moved quickly and flung himself onto the floor. A violent explosion rocked the exam table. Remy's scream no longer resembled the scream of a human, but that of a trapped animal in pain.

 

Remy lashed out at everyone present, catapulting his pain and rage into their minds. At the same time, he managed to undo the shredded restraints. He struggled to his feet, frantically searching for a way out. Feeling claustrophobic, all he could think about was getting into the open and he would kill anyone who got in his way. Suddenly, a man blocked his path. An angry hiss left his lips and he lunged for his enemy, but the other man was faster.

 

Scott quickly grabbed Remy's wrists and used his body weight to throw the other man onto the floor. Straddling the Cajun's hips, he stared into dilated pupils. He had deluded himself. Remy didn't know who he was. "Remy, please..."

 

Remy tried to drown his enemy in his emotions, sending him pain and fear, but the other man merely flinched and shook it off.

 

"Remy, don't. Look at me, listen to me," Scott was begging by now. He still had a firm hold on Remy's wrists and although the Cajun tried to get away, he managed to keep him in place. "Remy, I... Maybe this will do the trick." He blatantly ignored Warren's surprised gasps as he bent down and kissed Remy. Brushing the Cajun's lips, he forced them apart. Remy froze beneath him, never expecting this move. Scott deepened the kiss, entered Remy's mouth and challenged the other man's tongue to a duel.

 

Come on, Remy. You know me. It's Scott! I helped you face Hugo. You helped me deal with Jean's death. You're stronger than Creed. You'll find a way to beat him. Please, Remy, acknowledge me... say my name. Scott looked into Remy's eyes, hoping to see recognition in the burning orbs. "Please Remy."

 

As Remy finally spoke, his voice sounded raw and unused. "S-scot-t?" he stuttered.

 

"Yeah, it's me, Scott..." Smiling brightly, he loosened his hold on Remy. "I knew you could to it, Re..." He never got the chance to finish his sentence as Remy viciously kicked him in the gut. The Cajun immediately followed up by reaching for his throat, but luckily Hank and Warren intervened, pulling Remy away from him. "Shit, I really thought..."

 

Charles joined Scott and consoled him. "You did manage to get through to him. Next time we have to work on something more... permanent."

 

Disillusioned, Scott watched Hank and Warren strap Remy back to the exam table. "This isn't going to work, sir..."

 

Charles moistened his lips. Yes, you're right, Scott, he thought privately. We need help... We need Sinister.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Chapter 5

Revelations

 

Warren was relieved that they finally had Remy restrained to the exam table. It helped that Hank had administered more of the sedative and Remy was finally calming down. The alien eyes closed as the Cajun sank into unconsciousness. Looking at Scott, he saw a similar relief on his friend's face. Now he finally knew what had been eluding him all this time. Scott's concern, his affection for Remy finally made sense. "You're in love with him," Warren whispered.

 

Scott flinched, hearing Warren's words. "Yeah, I am. Don't know why or when it happened; it just did."

 

Warren felt torn. Jean had only been dead for half a year and Scott was already kissing someone else. Oh, man, I still can't believe Scott kissed Remy! He had blinked his eyes when Scott had brushed the Cajun's lips, sure he was suffering from hallucinations, but when he had opened them again, the scene hadn't changed. "Scott, I don't know what to say..."

 

Hank had listened quietly, exchanging a glance with the professor. He knew about this. The professor wasn't surprised at all. One part of him felt happy for Scott, but another part wondered if it wasn't too soon to love again.

 

"I know what you're thinking," Scott said, as he looked at Hank and Warren. "I'm the first to admit it's too soon. I never planned on falling in love with him; it took me by surprise. Jean hasn't been gone for long and... I didn't want to admit to myself that I'm in love with Remy. It took a lot to face my feelings... Luckily, Jean left some recorded messages and she told me she wanted me to love again. Knowing I have her blessing let me admit my feelings to myself. But I'll understand if you don't see it my way..." Scott looked away, awaiting their judgment.

 

Warren saw the warm expression in the professor's eyes. Charles approved of Scott's decision and it made him reconsider his initial reaction. "Jean left recorded messages?"

 

"Yeah, they're... rather personal," Scott said reluctantly. "But..." he hesitated, "she told me that Remy's in love with me as well. Her telepathy picked up on his feelings when he returned from Antarctica. Remy never made a move on me, because he respected our marriage, but now that Jean's gone..."

 

Hank took a step closer to Scott and placed his large, furry hand on his friend's shoulder. "Jean was a great lady and I'm sure she knew what she was doing when she recorded those messages. She would want you to be happy and our poor Acadian friend certainly deserves a break as well. But you have your work cut out... The way Remy is now, he..." Feeling suddenly very emotional, he swallowed hard. "We'll help Remy... we'll find a solution."

 

Scott smiled weakly. "Thanks, Hank. I knew you'd back me up." In spite of his words, he hadn't been that confident Hank that would support him. Looking at Warren, he watched the play of emotions on the other man's face. "What about you, Warren?"

 

"I'm still processing," Warren admitted. "It's unexpected. I never knew..." He looked at Remy, who was still struggling weakly against the restraints. "I never knew you liked men in that way." He shrugged his shoulders, trying to appear calm and in control.

 

"I never knew myself," Scott confessed. "It took me some time to figure out my feelings."

 

Warren frowned. "I don't know how I feel about this, Scott, but I won't cause any problems. You’ve already got more trouble than you bargained for. Give me some time to get used to this."

 

"Sure, Warren." Scott looked toward Charles for instructions. "What do we do now? Reaching out and talking to Remy didn't work."

 

"Maybe we need someone Remy trusts unconditionally." Charles still hoped Sinister would get in touch with him.

 

"Who are you thinking about?" Scott's hope, which had been burning low, flared. "Do you have a plan?"

 

Yes, Charles thought privately, shielding his thoughts from the others. But I can't tell you that it involves asking Sinister to help us out. Charles considered Scott's question and nodded his head, recalling Sinister had disguised himself as Jean-Luc LeBeau to gain Remy's trust before. "I'll try to contact Jean-Luc LeBeau in New Orleans. Maybe seeing his father will convince Remy to trust us as well."

 

"Do you think he'll come? Isn't he in charge of the Thieves Guild?" Scott hoped the Cajun would abandon his duties in favor of Remy.

 

"We must try to convince him," Charles said firmly and steered his hoverchair toward the exit. "Scott, stay here and talk to Remy. Let him get used to your voice again. Henry, keep a close eye on our patient." Charles left the med lab, determined to use Cerebro to reach out to Sinister again.

 

///

 

"Now what?" Logan cursed beneath his breath. Creed's changed scent was throwing him off the track and he had lost the scent twice already. "He never used aftershave before..." It was messing with his senses.

 

Sneaking closer to the diner, he peeked inside and hissed, seeing Creed behind the counter. Behind the counter? What the hell's goin' on? This makes no sense! Creed also sported a new hair cut, cleanly shaven face and he wearing a flannel shirt and jeans. Staring at the man's hands, Logan realized that Creed had also visited a manicurist. His claws were shorter than they had ever been and almost resembled normal fingernails. Stunned, he shook his head.

 

It's Creed and yet... it ain' him... The bloodlust was gone from Creed's eyes and the maniac was actually flirting with a waitress! What do I do?

 

///

 

Sinister, I know you can hear me! Damn it, answer me! Remy needs your help. Last time he was in trouble you cared enough to help him. It's even worse now and he really needs your help to pull him through! If you really care about him, you'll answer me! Charles was getting frustrated, even angry. Sinister, answer me!

 

I heard you, Xavier! How did Remy get hurt this time? I warned you!

 

Charles sighed, relieved. Why didn't you answer sooner?

 

I was busy. Now tell me what happened. It infuriated him that Xavier had let Remy get hurt again. He was in the middle of an important experiment and Xavier's call had interrupted his work. After listening to Xavier rave for some time he had been irritated enough to react. Now that Remy wasn't close he wasn't particularly interested in the Cajun's health, but this would change once he was near the empath. It had baffled him repeatedly how his demeanor changed once he was close to his son. When Remy was close, he felt concerned for his son's well being, but once they were separated, he didn't really care. Giving in to the inevitable, he listened to Xavier who was trying to explain what had happened to Remy.

 

Creed did this to Remy? He had listened to Xavier's explanation with growing disbelief. He had warned Creed to stay away from Remy! And Remy's now possessed by Creed's animalistic urges?

 

He attacked us. Remy doesn't know what he's doing. Creed's instincts are guiding him.

 

Where's Creed? He should have taken Creed out a long time ago. Shielding his thoughts, he recalled what had happened in the past. Creed sexually assaulted Remy when he was healing and Creed has continued to target Remy. Why didn't I act sooner? First, I'll check on Remy and then I'm going to take Creed out of the game.

 

The last time you helped Remy by disguising yourself as Jean-Luc LeBeau... Charles mused. It might work this time as well. I planned to call Jean-Luc and ask him to come to Westchester if I couldn’t reach you, but you're my first choice. Being a telepath as well you know how to handle this. Charles hesitated to speak his next words, but he did, hoping it would convince Sinister to act for the benefit of his son. You might be his last chance.

 

I'll come in the guise of Jean-Luc LeBeau. It would take the real Jean-Luc at least a few hours to make the trip from New Orleans to Westchester so expect me in a few hours. In the meantime, you'll tell me exactly what happened to Remy.

 

Satisfied that he had attained his goal, Charles began updating Sinister.

 

///

 

"Scott?" Warren hesitantly approached his friend. "You look tired and Hank says it's okay for you to get some sleep as long as I wake you every three hours. There's nothing you can do, why don't you stretch out and get some rest?" Understanding the gentleness to Scott's touch as his friend stroked Remy's locks, Warren moistened his lips. "You know, I've been thinking..."

 

Scott smiled. "And what did you come up with?" He was confident that Warren would stay his friend, now that the other man hadn't turned away from him in disgust after finding out about his attraction to Remy. But he expected a more fierce reaction when the women on the team found out. Rogue certainly wasn't going to take this well.

 

"It's true, I never expected it, but... like Jean I want you to be happy and if Remy does the trick... I can't say I truly accept this, but I think I will, given some time." Warren smiled warmly. "Does Remy know?"

 

"Not yet."

 

"He looked flabbergasted when you kissed him, shook me up too, but maybe you should continue down that road. Maybe it will eventually strike him that you love him." Warren began to walk away, but Scott's voice made him stop.

 

"Thanks, Warren. It means a lot to me that you don't condemn me for being in love with Remy. I know you loved Jean as well and I still miss her every day, every minute, but Remy makes it bearable. He gave me a reason to hang in there and to not give up." Scott nodded his head. "I really mean it, thanks."

 

Warren nodded once and then walked over to Hank's office, giving the two men some privacy. "Any news?"

 

Hank looked up from the screen. "I'm afraid not, my friend. Remy's condition hasn't changed. Let's hope Logan finds Creed." Hank pretended to go back to typing, but eyed Warren closely. "What did you talk about just now?"

 

"Remy... I still can't believe Slim's in love with a guy!" Warren collapsed on the chair in front of Hank's desk. "I never saw it coming. I'm not homophobic, you know... if I were, Bobby wouldn't be my best friend." Bobby had come out a year before and after digesting the news, he hadn't seen any reason to end his friendship with Bobby. They were still best friends.

 

"Is it because of Jean?" Hank asked, abandoning his typing and leaning back in his chair.

 

Warren shrugged his shoulders. "I expected Scott to be crushed when she died. I thought he would mourn her death for the rest of his life. They seemed so close, so..." Warren failed to find the right words. "But I'll be okay with it. I just need a little time."

 

"What about Rogue?" Hank looked at Scott, who was talking softly to Remy. The Cajun was still unconscious.

 

"I really don't care about Rogue. She began dating Joe right after Remy's presumed death. She has no right to condemn them for being in love." Warren suddenly felt better, more at ease with the fact that Scott had chosen Remy as his new lover. "They might even work out."

 

"If we find a way to restore Remy's mind to its former state," Hank warned. "Did you hear from Logan?"

 

"Nothing. Maybe the professor knows?" Warren crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I hate not knowing what we're up against."

 

"I need to check on Remy." Hank rose from his chair, but stopped briefly as he stood next to Warren. "The professor will find a solution."

 

Warren nodded his head. "I hope you're right. I wonder if Logan's making progress."

 

///

 

Logan entered the diner and stalked toward the counter. Creed was helping some customers, who were paying their bills. Searching out the other man's eyes, he frowned. Creed's eyes were clear and free of rage.

 

"What will it be? Coffee? The apple pie is a hit," Creed said, watching the stranger closely. The man seemed familiar, but he couldn't put a name with the face.

 

Logan stayed alert, not buying Creed's act. It had to be an act! "Coffee, black."

 

Creed poured the steamy liquid into the mug and placed it in front of his customer. The hair at the back of his neck was standing rigid and he fought the urge to run. Did he know this man? Were they enemies? "So what brings ya to town?"

 

"Jus' passin' through," Logan whispered, sipping his coffee. "How 'bout ya? Been here for a long time?"

 

"Just arrived myself," Creed said, evasively. "Want somethin' to eat?"

 

"No thanks..." Logan considered his game plan. Taking out Creed here and now would attract unnecessary attention. He had to wait until Creed had finished his shift and left the diner.

 

He paid for his coffee and watched Creed help another customer. I can't believe this is Creed! Charlie was right about the amnesia. Creed almost seems normal! How fuckin' amazin' is that? The bastard looks and acts normal, like he never slaughtered his victims!

 

Logan felt Creed's eyes on him as he left the diner. He would lay low and wait for Creed to leave the establishment and then he would take his target out. Concentrating, he tried to reach out to Xavier. Professor?

 

Yes? Did you find Creed? Where are you? Are you on your way back to Westchester?

 

Things must have gotten worse for Xavier to be rambling. Yeah, I located Creed and yer right. He ain't actin' normal. He's workin' at a diner, and has even changed his appearance. I bet he had his first haircut in years!

 

Don't lose his trail and take him to the mansion as quickly as possible, Charles instructed.

 

How's the Cajun? Logan watched every move Creed made from his hiding place. Creed was slipping into his coat and it looked like his shift had ended.

 

Remy's condition remains unchanged. He attacked Scott again, scratched Warren's face open and we had to restrain and sedate him again.

 

Creed's 'bout to leave, Logan informed Xavier. I'll check in with ya later.

 

Take him alive, Logan. A dead Creed is of no use to us.

 

Understood. Logan left his hiding place and followed Creed down the street. He had parked Scott's car around the corner and he planned to take Creed out quickly and then stuff him into the back of the car.

 

///

 

"Sir?" Scott looked up, an expression of hope flashed across his features.

 

"Logan has located Creed." Charles moved his hoverchair closer to the exam bed. "And I also contacted Jean-Luc LeBeau." He didn't want to lie to Scott, but couldn't tell him the truth either. Scott would never allow Sinister close. "He promised to come to Westchester. I expect him in a few hours."

 

Scott looked thoughtfully. "Sir, do you really think we still have a chance to reclaim Remy?"

 

"Yes, Scott. You need to have faith." Charles considered telling Scott to rest, but decided against it, sensing the other man's concern. Scott wanted to be close to Remy to help in case something went wrong. "Hank and Warren are around to help, if you need any."

 

"Thank you, sir." Scott concentrated on Remy again and claimed the Cajun's right hand. Remy's fingers instantly curled around his, tightly. "Everything will be all right, Remy, I promise."

 

///

 

Creed frowned. Something felt wrong. Was someone following him? That man at the diner had distressed him, but he didn't know why. His inner alarms had kicked in and he had been ready to leave in a hurry, but he had forced himself to stay calm. He didn't know why he felt paranoid, but he did.

 

Looking over his shoulder, he could have sworn that the nightly shadows had taken on human form. Someone's followin' me. He sped up, and barely kept from running. Why? Why's someone followin' me? Is it that stranger? Why would he target me? Target? Why did I use that word and... Argh! Someone tackled him, grabbing him by his knees and throwing him onto the concrete.

 

"Lemme go!" Creed kicked and tried to fight off his attacker and was surprised when he managed to throw the other man off. He hadn't know he was this strong! Rising to his full length, he glared at the shorter man who was back on his feet. "Whadda ya want? My money?"

 

Logan growled. "Don't play games with me, bub. Ya know what I want!"

 

"I don't! I don't even know you! Why did ya attack me?" Creed backed away from his attacker. "Why?"

 

"Stop playin' games, Creed!" Logan sneaked up on his target. "Yer comin' with me. If necessary I'll carry yer sorry ass back to Westchester!"

 

He froze in his tracks. "What did ya call me?"

 

"Creed, yer fuckin' name's Creed! Don't tell me ya forgot, 'cause I won't believe ya!" Logan took another step, backing Creed up in the corner. "Ya hurt a buddy of mine real bad, and yer comin' with me to help us undo the damage. What did ya do to Gumbo? And why are ya so calm and..." But Creed was still staring at him, motionless.

 

"Creed? Is that my name? Creed?" The name released vague memories, which he didn't understand. They were a big, blurry mess and he shook his head to clear it. "I ain't goin' with ya. I'm goin' home to catch some sleep. I got the early shift tomorrow."

 

Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation got to Logan and he laughed, hard. Creed made no sense. "I don't have time for this, Creed." Moving faster than the eye could see, Logan's fist connected with Creed's jaw. Creed went down and Logan grabbed him at the waist, dragging him toward the car, where he opened the trunk and uncovered some rope. Within seconds, he had tied Creed up and pushed him onto the back seat.

 

"Way too easy... Creed would never let me get away with such a sloppy attack. He could have easily fought me off. It was like he didn't see the punch comin'." Maybe the professor was right and Creed no longer felt this insane bloodlust. "Chuck will have to figure that one out. I'm doin' my job and that's takin' him to Westchester."

 

After making sure that Creed was out cold and tied tightly, Logan slipped behind the steering wheel and turned the car around. "Way too easy!"

 

///

 

Sinister morphed into Jean-Luc LeBeau and stepped into the car, which was parked near the mansion. He realized that he had to act like LeBeau in every sense of the word. Although he could have used a tesseract to travel to the mansion, his arrival would have stirred too many questions. So he had to arrive the old-fashioned way, by car.

 

He hadn't driven a car for a long time, but hadn't lost his skills. During his career, he had often pretended being someone else and he had acquired several 'human' skills over the years.

 

Driving up to the security camera, he waited for the X-Men to contact him. At first, he didn't recognize the voice that was speaking to him, but then he realized it was Warren Worthington, Archangel. "I'm Jean-Luc LeBeau, here to visit mon fils, Remy." Slipping into Jean-Luc's hide had become second nature by now. Remy had never seen through the pretence, so he reckoned he was doing a fine job impersonating the Cajun.

 

"The professor's already waiting for you," Warren said. He had used an excuse to relieve Joseph from monitor duty. The professor wanted to keep the Cajun's arrival low profile. As he opened the gates, Warren recalled the scene he had witnessed in the medlab several months before. Back then he had seen Jean-Luc LeBeau morph into Sinister. Later, he had realized why Charles had allowed it; as Jean-Luc, Sinister had been able to talk Remy into lowering his shields. So is this the real Jean-Luc LeBeau or Sinister in disguise? Feeling apprehensive, he watched the car drive up to the mansion. Using the com system, he informed Charles of the new arrival. I'd better stay close... in case I just admitted Sinister inside our walls.

 

///

 

"Scott? Jean-Luc's here. We should talk to him before he sees Remy." Like Sinister, Charles realized the importance of acting normally. They couldn't raise any suspicion.

 

"Does he know what happened to Remy?" Scott was tired after keeping this vigil at Remy's bed for all these hours. He rubbed his forehead and slowly rose to his feet. His head still hurt, but Hank had insisted he take some painkillers, taking the edge of the pain.

 

"Yes, I told him on the phone, but seeing Remy like this will hit him hard. We need to support each other." Charles smiled reassuringly. "Logan has caught Creed and is on his way back home. Once Creed's here we can start reversing the progress." That is if Sinister can gain Remy's trust. He didn't send Scott that last thought, keeping his musings private.

 

The lab door opened and Scott's gaze traveled from Remy to Jean-Luc LeBeau. He had never met the Patriarch of the New Orleans' Thieves Guild and felt slightly nervous.

 

Sinister stayed calm and in control, as a wave of fierce emotions swept over him. Bloody empathy! Even in his current state Remy's capable of making me feel again! I knew this would happen. Damn it, Creed, you're going to pay for hurting my son... again! Overcome by a sudden desire to protect his son, he marched toward the exam table and rested his right hand on Remy's brow, ignoring Summers. Forcing himself to act his part, he whispered, "What did dey do to you, petit?"

 

Remy stirred beneath his hands and his eyelids fluttered. Frowning, he saw the collar around Remy's neck and infuriated he was about to turn around and face the X-Men, to question them about the collar when a distressing thought hit him. Remy's collared... his empathy is switched off. He isn't influencing me... why am I still reacting this intensely?

 

Puzzled, he looked at the sleeping young man. Does our connection go deeper than I ever suspected? Did you unleash something the first time you touched my mind, using your empathy? What if I'm feeling protective because you're my son? Is this genetic? Did you subconsciously 'program' me to protect you? Did you want me as your father without knowing it yourself?

 

"Sir?" Scott rose from his chair, closely studying the other man's expression. His father had never shown much emotion where his sons were concerned, but he read obvious concern in Jean-Luc's dark eyes. "I'm sorry about what happened to Remy. We didn't know Creed was sneaking around or we would have kept a close eye on him." He didn't know why he felt the necessity to apologize, but he did.

 

His rage almost got the better of Sinister. I'm to blame as well. I knew there was bad blood between Creed and Remy and I didn't act, but I won't make the same mistake twice. Forcing himself to act his part, he addressed Scott. "Discussin' who's to blame won’ help Remy. We need to find Creed and reverse de process."

 

Awed, Charles looked at Sinister. The scientist played his part perfectly. How many years had Sinister watched Jean-Luc LeBeau to perfect his performance? "Logan located Creed and they're on their way back home. I expect them in a few hours."

 

"Stop feedin' him de sedative," Sinister instructed, trying hard to not sound too authoritative. He didn't want them to grow suspicious. "I want mon fils to wake up."

 

Scott drew in a deep breath. "The last time he woke up it took three of us to keep him under control."

 

"Dis time will be different," Sinister whispered. He would use this bond between him and his son to connect with Remy. He was experienced enough to manipulate Remy's thoughts and feelings to gain his trust. "Give de order, Xavier."

 

Charles told Hank to stop administering the sedative. Hank obeyed, although reluctantly. "How long before he wakes up?"

 

"I estimate an hour, maybe a little longer." Hank exchanged a concerned look with Warren, as Worthington entered the medlab. Something in Warren's eyes spoke of suspicion and he eyed Jean-Luc wearily, like he didn't trust the Cajun. Hank decided to keep his thoughts to himself.

 

Sinister pulled up another chair and sat down beside Remy's bed. Surprised, he noticed that Scott had done the same thing. Curiously, he watched as Scott claimed Remy's hand to caress the long, agile fingers. "Is dere somethin' I should know?" The question slipped from his lips unintended, but this had him baffled. He knew that Jean had died and pitied the loss of her genetic material, but luckily he still had some of her tissue samples in his lab and he could continue his experiments.

 

Scott turned his head away from the other man. He hadn't planned on revealing his feelings for Remy this soon, but he had acted instinctively by reaching for Remy's hand. "I didn't want you to find out this way, sir."

 

"Find out what?" Sinister leaned in closer. As he studied Summers' face, he tentatively probed Remy's mind.

 

"I've developed feelings for your son." He bit his bottom lip. I don't even know if Remy wants his father to know and... what if Jean-Luc LeBeau doesn't want a male lover for his son? I'd understand, considering Remy's history on the streets.

 

Stunned, Sinister almost slipped, but he quickly recomposed himself. Briefly, he had wanted to morph back to his original shape and to question Summers about this development, but as Jean-Luc he had to act differently. "You're in love wit' mon fils?" This was new information; none of his spies had picked up on this one!

 

"I only found out for myself recently," Scott said, apologetically. "Remy doesn't know yet."

 

Sinister leaned back in his chair. One revelation quickly followed another. "Remy loves you too? How can you be sure?"

 

Scott felt hesitant to tell the other man about Jean's recorded messages. "I just know."

 

Remy and Scott Summers? Sinister didn't know what to think of this one. If one of them had been female, their offspring would have been extremely powerful mutants! Their children would have greatly contributed to his gene pool. It was a pity that both were men!

 

"Does this bother you?" Scott didn't know how to interpret the other man's silence. Jean-Luc's face didn't reveal much, except for the concern that had been there to begin with.

 

Sinister managed to act calmly. "I ain' sure, mais we'll see what happens in de future. De only t'ing dat matters now is dat we help Remy recover." It would take Logan and Creed a few hours to get here, which gave him time to gain Remy's trust. The Cajun would wake up in an hour and then he could test his credibility as Jean-Luc LeBeau. Hopefully Remy wouldn’t see through his disguise.

 

///

 

Struggling through a slimy dark mass, he finally reached the surface. He gasped for breath, and pulled at the restraints that were back in place. After releasing an enraged growl, he opened his eyes, but quickly closed them again as the bright lights burned his retina. They had tied him down again and he struggled against the bonds.

 

"Remy, mon fils, listen to me. You trust me, don' you, petit?" Sinister tried to sound calm and hoped his voice carried a warm tone. Addressing Warren, who had been staring at him since his arrival, he asked the X-Man to turn down the lights.

 

Warren reluctantly obeyed after Charles had nodded his approval. He still didn't trust their visitor. There was a chance that one of their biggest enemies had found a way in.

 

"Is dis betta? Trust me, open your eyes." Sinister carefully monitored Remy's reactions. Soft growls left the younger man's throat and he was trying to rip the restraints apart. "It doesn' work dis way, mon fils." Collared, Remy couldn't charge his restraints and his helplessness urged Sinister to speak again. "Open your eyes, mon fils and look at me. You know me..."

 

The soothing, calm voice made him open his eyes and Remy gasped, recognizing the face of the only man who had ever loved him unconditionally. Jean-Luc's features were deeply embedded in his memory and not even Creed's personality had changed that. "Pop...pa?"

 

"Oui, it's me, Remy." Sinister felt Charles' relief. Looking at the professor, he realized why Charles had been so desperate to talk to him.

 

Remy's eyes were glued to Jean-Luc's, unable to comprehend why his father was here. He had always felt safe with Jean-Luc and although a dark rage burned inside his soul, he trusted his father to look after him. "What's... w-wrong w-wit' me?"

 

Scott released a relieved sigh. At last, Remy recognized someone and the Cajun was more coherent than before. He was still holding Remy's hand and held his breath as red on black eyes fastened on him. A series of soft growls left Remy's lips and the Cajun tried pulling back his hand, but the restraints limited his actions.

 

"Remy, mon fils, he's a friend." His own tone baffled him. When had he started to truly care about Remy, whom he had always seen as just another experiment? And what did this say about Apocalypse's powers? Somehow Remy had made him care again.

 

Remy hardly dared to let go of his father's familiar eyes, but briefly peeked at Scott's. The growls changed into soft whimpers and he cocked his head, trying to get a better look at Scott. His father was at his side and wouldn't leave him, so he felt safe enough to look away, focusing on feeling his father's fingers caress his hair. The other man looked familiar as well and warmth moved through his mind.

 

Encouraged, Scott tried again. "Do you remember me, Remy? My name's Scott and we're very good friends." This time Remy's eyes widened, showing curiosity. "Actually, I think we're more than good friends. I... I'm in love with you." Speaking the words actually calmed him. Remy suddenly squeezed his hand, gently, and the whimpering stopped. "Remy, I know you're still in there. You've got to trust us. We're trying to help you."

 

Remy's gaze traveled back to his father, seeking confirmation.

 

Seeing the expression in Remy's eyes, Sinister gave in. "He's speakin' de trut', mon fils." He briefly made eye contact with Xavier, signaling that he was pleased with the progress they were making. It's working. He trusts me and he's beginning to trust Summers as well.

 

Excellent. Charles closed his eyes, establishing contact with Logan. How much longer before you reach the mansion?

 

Logan cursed softly, as Charles' mind voice disturbed his concentration. Two more hours...

 

How's Creed?

 

Unconscious in the back of my car, Logan said, informing Xavier. How's the Cajun?

 

His father, Jean-Luc LeBeau, has arrived and has gained Remy's trust. Remy's still restrained, but shows no signs of wanting to attack us. I'll contact you again in two hours. Charles terminated the contact and concentrated on Remy again. Suddenly, he noticed the suspicious expression in Warren's eyes. His student's mind was wide open and he gently probed his thoughts, never probing too deeply.

 

"Everyt'in' will be bien, Remy, your poppa makes you dat promise." Sinister looked up, feeling Xavier probe Warren's mind.

 

"Poppa... poppa... help me!" Remy's eyes filled with tears and they dripped down his face. Pleadingly he stared at the older man, remembering that his father had saved his life and his sanity before.

 

Sinister stopped probing Xavier's mind and concentrated on the distressed young man. As he moved to wipe away Remy's tears, he found that Scott had moved faster. Scott was already wiping away the tears and crooning softly, reassuring Remy now that the Cajun accepted him close.

 

Charles however, gasped. My God, Warren knows! He saw Sinister morph after he helped Remy lower his barriers! Warren knows the truth!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter 6

Whole again

 

Creed stirred in the back seat and Logan gritted his teeth. Using the rearview mirror, he kept a close eye on his passenger. Creed looked confused and only reacted slowly; he wasn't struggling to free himself of his bonds. Creed merely looked stunned, trying to figure out why he was tied like this. Suddenly, their eyes met and Creed flinched. Puzzled, Logan wondered what was going on in Creed's head.

 

"Why did ya tie me down? Whadda ya want from me, man?" Creed sat motionless, not even trying to rip the rope apart. Intimidated, he averted his eyes. "Why are ya doin' this to me?"

 

Logan licked his lips, uncertain what to reply. "Why did ya hurt Gumbo?" Creed's brow grew furrowed, as if he was trying to drag up forgotten memories.

 

"Gumbo? I don't know anyone called Gumbo."

 

"Gambit, Remy LeBeau! What did ya do to him? When I entered that cave he tried to attack me!" Creed's eyes had widened and Logan cocked his head, alert and ready to react in case Creed turned violent.

 

The name unleashed something. Suddenly, he recalled being in that cave and another man had been there as well. He'd had auburn hair and the most curious eyes; red on black. He shivered, pushing those memories away.

 

"Ya remember, don't ya?" Logan hissed the words. "Whad’d ya do to him?"

 

Creed decided not to answer any questions. Instead, he wanted to ask some of his own. "Where are ya takin' me?"

 

"Back to the mansion and don't think ya can gimme the slip. Gambit's in trouble and I'm gonna make sure ya make it to Westchester." Logan bared his teeth, trying to intimidate Creed further. "Sit there quietly and don't gimme any trouble or ya might regret it."

 

Creed, puzzled, tried to make sense of what was happening. According to this stranger, he had hurt the man with the red on black eyes. What did I do and why did I do it? I don't remember a thing! A sickening sensation in the pit of his stomach made him close his eyes. He couldn't remember ever feeling like this.

 

///

 

Sinister was still sitting at Remy's bedside, holding his son's hand. Every so often, Warren approached them and gave him a wary look. Charles had excused himself and had left the medlab. Hank was in his office, working on his research. They were waiting for Logan and Creed to arrive and in the meantime there was little they could do. Scott had fallen asleep in his chair and Sinister now focused on Warren, who stood in front of him.

 

Warren decided on the direct approach. "I saw you change back after Remy released his depression."

 

"What are you talkin' 'bout, homme?" Sinister acted carefully, unsure how much Warren knew.

 

"You can stop pretending to be Jean-Luc LeBeau. I know who you really are... Sinister." Warren's eyes hardened, fully aware of the risk he was taking.

 

Sinister cocked his head, trying to figure out Warren's game plane. "I don' know what you're talkin' 'bout."

 

Warren laughed, mockingly. "You can pretend all you want, but I know the truth. Why are you doing this? I thought you hated Remy's guts. After all, you set him up when he led the Marauders into the Morlock tunnels. And now you're here, pretending you care?"

 

Sinister's pupils deepened and briefly red replaced Jean-Luc's eyes, revealing his true nature. "Don't get involved in this." The warning was icy cold, telling Warren to butt out.

 

"I knew it!" The red eyes had given Sinister away and Warren prepared himself for the worst possible scenario. "I want you to step away from Remy."

 

Sinister shook his head. "You have no idea what's really going on. Cross me and you'll regret it, Worthington."

 

Mystified, Warren backed away from Sinister, knowing how powerful the other mutant was. "Why? Why is Remy this important to you? Why are you acting like you care? You lost the ability to feel..."

 

Their conversation was distressing Remy, who began to move restlessly. The young Cajun was still restrained and Sinister acted at once, using his own telepathy to soothe his son's anguish. Remy calmed down again and Sinister glared at Warren. His eyes were Jean-Luc's again.

 

Warren was still missing a piece of the puzzle and was determined to solve the riddle. "I'll keep my eye on you, Sinister..." Walking toward Hank's office, Warren considered everything he knew. I will figure this one out!

 

///

 

Sinister realized he had been found out, but he couldn't leave now. For some reason he was chained to Remy's side. He still hadn't figured it out completely, but right now his first priority was making sure Remy recovered and Creed was punished. Looking over at Scott, he felt relieved that the other man was still asleep. He didn't want them all to know who he really was. It was bad enough Warren knew.

 

Feeling trapped, he looked at their joined hands. Remy's fingers were tightly curled around his, holding on to him. Unwanted memories of his firstborn son returned to him. The child had died at a young age and he had tried to revive the boy. Was this his second chance?

 

We need to talk, Charles sent as his hoverchair reached the exam table Remy was resting on.

 

Startled, Sinister looked over his shoulder. He was slipping; he hadn't heard Xavier approach. Worthington knows my real identity. Do something about it. Once he tells the others I can no longer help Remy.

 

I plan to do just that, but... how much do I tell him? What do I say if he wants to know why Remy's this important to you? I doubt he'll believe it's because Remy's one of your experiments. Your concern is real to everyone. Finding out that Sinister truly cared about Remy had baffled even him. Didn't Apocalypse take away your feelings?

 

Yes, he did, Sinister replied thoughtfully. I can't explain it either. Recalling Xavier's original question, he sent, I don't want Worthington to know that Remy's my son. Make something up, I don't care.

 

I'll do my best, Charles promised, steering his hoverchair to the office where Warren and Henry were drinking coffee. Let me handle this.

 

Sinister once more focused on Remy, who was still sound asleep, even without being sedated. Creed will be here in a few minutes and then we'll reverse the process, Remy. And once you're sane again I'll make sure Creed pays for what he did to you.

 

///

 

"Turn right, Creed." Logan was guiding Creed through the corridors. They were on their way to the medlab and Logan remained alert. He still expected Creed to pull something on him. Creed's hands were tied behind his back and he wondered why Creed hadn't torn the rope apart yet. It would be easy for Creed to break free. He still didn't believe the amnesia story. Creed was a good actor when it suited the maniac best. "Are yer memories already comin' back?"

 

Creed flinched. Yes, they were, but he had no desire to share them with the other man. The memories resembled nightmares, showing him his victims, which he had slowly tortured to death. Others he had killed quickly. I don't want to remember...

 

Professor? We're here, Logan informed Xavier.

 

Excellent.

 

The med lab doors opened and Logan pushed Creed inside. "Get movin'."

 

Creed's eyes grew big, seeing the restrained form on the exam table. Auburn hair... and as the eyes opened, he recognized them. Red on black...

 

"No!" Collapsing on his knees, he ripped the rope apart and clutched his head in his hands. "No..." The memories rushed back, and he staggered on his knees, reeling under their impact. He remembered everything; his parents, his father who made him eat the rabbits that had become his friends. He remembered killing his parents when the bloodlust had overwhelmed him... Birdie... and his plan to force Remy to take her place... His plan had backfired.

 

Remy reacted violently, pulling at the restraints. The leather cut his skin and droplets of blood dripped down his wrists. He was in danger! Growling ominously, he tried to sit upright, but the restraints kept him back. Charging the restraints was impossible because he was still collared and his fear and rage increased.

 

"Remy, mon fils, look at me." Sinister reacted at once, blocking Remy's view of Creed.

 

Scott, who had startled awake, quickly left his chair and sat down on the side of the bed. "Listen to your father, Remy. We're here to protect you. You're safe, safe!"

 

Sinister reached out telepathically and managed to calm Remy down. The young Cajun was whimpering again and looked up at him pleadingly. "Your ordeal's almost over, mon fils."

 

Remy grabbed Scott's hand and nearly crushed it. Scott, growing pale, quickly tried to reassure Remy as well. "It's going to be okay. We need Creed in order to help you, Remy. I love you and I promise that everything will be just fine."

 

Charles, Warren and Hank joined them. Watching Creed closely, Charles cautiously probed Creed's mind, finding no rage at all. "Do you know what happened?"

 

Creed's face contorted. "I don't know what went wrong. I wanted him to take away the bloodlust, feel the glow 'gain... Birdie made me feel so good and..." Creed stared at Remy's burning orbs. "I don't want it back. I'm finally normal... I want to be normal. I don't want to be an insane maniac..."

 

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," Charles said firmly. "These feral instincts are yours, not Remy's..." Creed started to protest, but Charles raised a hand to silence him. "In return for your cooperation I promise to help you find a way to control your instincts."

 

Creed shook his head. "I don't think so."

 

Sinister, who had been quiet until now, rose from his chair, but Remy was clinging to him and wouldn't let go of his hand so he couldn't advance on Creed. Standing next to the exam table, he stared into Creed's eyes.

 

Creed returned the stare, not recognizing the stranger. "What?"

 

"You'll cooperate or face me." Sinister was tempted to reveal himself to ensure Creed's cooperation, but couldn't; Remy still needed him.

 

"Make me..." Creed threatened.

 

"That can be arranged, bub," Logan grabbed Creed's wrists and forced them behind his back. Hank helped him restrain Creed and together, they dragged Creed closer to the exam table.

 

Fully awake, Remy stared at them. He sensed the danger, remembering Creed's ugly visage and the hurt the other man had inflicted on him.

 

"Don' struggle, mon fils," Sinister advised, squeezing his son's hand. After making eye contact with Charles, he nodded his head. Let's do this. I'll make sure Remy's walls are down.

 

Charles concentrated and sensed Creed's mental defenses, which were stronger than he had imagined. He hated invading Creed's mind against his will, but Remy's well being hung in the balance. I'm ready, he informed Sinister.

 

Logan didn't loosen his hold on Creed when the other men grew motionless. He had seen the professor work his powers before and knew from personal experience that Charles would release Creed from his mental hold once he had attained his goal and he wanted to be ready when Creed turned aggressive.

 

Sinister leaned in closer until his lips rested against Remy's ear. "Listen to me, mon fils. Trust your poppa and lemme in... I'll take care of you..." Remy's weakened barriers crumbled and Sinister pulled Remy's mind closer to his. I'm ready, Xavier. His barriers are down.

 

I'm ready as well. Creed isn't cooperating, but I'll manage. Let me take the lead.

 

Agreed, but I'll monitor everything closely. Sinister caught Warren's perplexed gaze, hoping the other man wouldn't figure out his connection to Remy.

 

Remy trembled violently when Charles initiated contact. Feeling Creed's mind again, he released a keening wail. He reached out for his father, but Jean-Luc seemed pre-occupied, not noticing his distress, so he turned to Scott. "W-whats... hap-penin'?"

 

"Let the professor do his job, Remy. They're reversing the process. Just hang in there and everything will be fine." Scott leaned in closer and cradled Remy's head in his hands. "We can undo the restraints shortly, Remy. Don't fight this." While squeezing Remy's right hand, his other hand tangled in the long auburn hair. "Yes, that's it," he crooned, seeing Remy's eyes widen.

 

Charles suddenly felt Sinister reach out as well, strengthening the temporary link. At first, he feared that Sinister had a hidden agenda, but when the scientist supported his effort to reverse the process, he accepted the help. He knew that Sinister was a telepath, but had never thought he was this powerful. Together, they completed the link.

 

"Remy? Mon fils, let go..." Sinister looked into Remy's startled eyes. Rubbing the inside of Remy's wrist, he guided the alien part of Remy’s personality down the link until Charles took over, pouring it into Creed's mind, where it belonged.

 

Creed reacted instantly, trying to free himself of the restraining hold. His eyes burned with rage and he howled loudly. "Lemme go! Take yer filthy hands off of me!"

 

"Logan!" Charles distanced himself from the link that still existed between Sinister and Remy. "Take Creed to one of the holding cells and make sure he doesn't escape. I'll talk to him later." He planned to honor the promise he had made; he would help Creed control his urges, but first he had to ensure Remy's safety.

 

Remy stared blindly at the ceiling. His breathing was labored and his hands were open; the claws and fists gone.

 

"Remy? Remy!" Scott didn't wait for Charles' permission to undo the restraints and freed the Cajun. "Hey, Remy, talk to me. Look at me, show me you're okay!" He enfolded Remy in his arms and gently pulled the Cajun into a sitting position. Remy's head came to rest on his shoulder and he tenderly rubbed the other man's back. "Remy?"

 

Remy shook briefly, then settled down again. His eyes focused on Jean-Luc and Charles. Warren was standing to his right, looking shell shocked. "What happened?"

 

Scott's sigh echoed through the room. "Thank God, I hoped it would work, but..." Pulling back, he managed to catch Remy's gaze. "You're back, Remy..."

 

"Back?" Remy frowned. "You'd betta start makin' sense, Cyke."

 

"What's de last t'ing you remember?" Sinister slowly released the hold he had on Remy's mind, realizing his son's memory showed dark holes.

 

Remy swallowed hard. "Creed knockin' me off de bike... den everyt'in' turns blurry. Why am I in de medlab? And poppa, what are you doin' here?" And why is Scott holdin' me?

 

Sinister exchanged a look with Charles and decided to tell Remy the truth. "You absorbed Creed's animal instincts."

 

A memory flared and Remy shivered. "I scratched his face..." Looking at Warren, he cringed, seeing the distinct marks on his face. "'Msorry," he mumbled, his face hidden against Scott's shoulder. "Didn'wannadodat..." His words were muffled, but the apology was evident. He felt weak and confused. If it hadn't been for Scott's closeness and acceptance he might have panicked.

 

"I t'ink it's safe to take de collar off," Sinister remarked, piqued that Remy ignored him and completely focused on Scott instead.

 

"Collar?" Remy's hands went to his neck, where he encountered the Genoshan collar. "Oui, please take if off."

 

Scott quickly removed it and concentrated on Remy again. The Cajun's breathing was irregular and shallow, his alien eyes draped and Remy was avoiding meeting his gaze. "Why don't you lie down?" He feared Remy might pass out after all.

 

But Remy's eyes had found his father's. "Poppa? What are you doin' here? Shouldn' you be in N'Arlings?" His eyes followed the hand that came to rest on his right arm. What was Jean-Luc doing here? "You always know when I need you... how?"

 

Sinister almost smiled, almost. "Your professor called me. I came as fast as I could, mon fils." The tide of feelings that washed over him utterly confused him. There was relief, happiness and even a twinge of loneliness and jealousy.

 

"Will you stay, poppa? Please stay a li'l longer..." Remy averted his eyes before making his next admission. "I need you..."

 

Privately, Sinister cursed the bond that existed between them. "Oui, I'll stay, mais not for long."

 

"I know, poppa, de Guild needs you." Remy felt drained and slowly lay down. Staring at the restraints, he shivered. He felt the welts around his wrists. They had restrained him! "'Mtired..."

 

"Then go to sleep, Remy. You father will still be here when you wake up again and so will I." Remy's eyes closed, but the Cajun never released his hand. "Yeah, that's it. Get some sleep and when you feel rested we're going to have a long talk."

 

Warren's eyes locked with Sinister's. He didn't know what to make of the scientist's behavior. After his talk with Charles, he had agreed to keep quiet and refrain from telling Remy the truth. He trusted Charles to make the right decisions; he only hoped Remy wouldn't be hurt again.

 

///

 

"I wanna go back to de boathouse now," Remy whispered, stubbornly. After learning what had happened these last few days, he was desperate to put some distance between himself and the other X-Men. Although Warren didn't seem angry about him scratching his face open, he didn't feel comfortable being this close to him. Maybe he should apologize again?

 

"A penny for your thoughts," Scott said, handing Remy a pair of jeans and a red shirt.

 

"Should I ‘pologize to Warren 'gain? I don' remember attackin' him... or you, mais I did and..." Remy bit his bottom lip, knowing he was babbling. He was still trying to come to terms with the fact that he had threatened his friends and he felt relieved that he didn't have any memories of these last few days. They were an almost complete blank, almost. The one thing he did remember was being restrained to the exam table and scratching Warren's face.

 

"He knows you didn't do it on purpose." Scott said, reassuringly. He stared at the bandaged wrists. The restraints had left welts, which hadn't closed completely yet. Except for the bandaged wrists, Remy looked like his normal self. But he's still recovering from the shock. He's just putting up a front... and I see right through it! And damn it, he forgot I kissed him! Now I have to take that first step again.

 

Remy disappeared into the bathroom to change his clothes. Staring into the mirror, he cringed. He had attacked his friends, had drawn blood. Why had it been so easy for Creed to get into his mind?

 

"Remy? Are you okay? Don't forget Jean-Luc is waiting for us at the boathouse."

 

"Oui, I remember," Remy whispered. He had not really believed his father when Jean-Luc had agreed to stay a little longer. The last few times his father had vanished on him. After slipping into clean clothes, he combed his hair and brushed his teeth. Feeling fairly decent again, he joined Scott only to find Hank standing next to the other man. "Henri?" When had Hank joined them? "I'm free to go, ain' I?"

 

"Yes, you are, but I want you to continue to rest." Hank had mixed feelings about letting Remy go. He really wanted to keep the Cajun in the medlab, but Scott had promised to look after Remy and he had given in. "No strenuous exercises, Remy."

 

Remy actually managed a smile, slipping into the sneakers Scott had brought. "I promise to behave, Henri." His skin grew hot, and he knew he was flushing bright red. He wasn't used to being fussed over and the experience made him feel warm and welcome.

 

"Scott? Ready to go?" He wanted to leave the medlab as quickly as possible and join Jean-Luc at the boathouse where they had some privacy.

 

"Yeah." Scott smiled reassuringly. He had tried to bring up Creed once before and Remy had completely shut down. Creed was the professor's problem right now. Logan was guarding the maniac and Xavier would doubtlessly try to help Creed. This no longer concerned Remy. The Cajun had suffered enough. "Let's go. We shouldn't keep your dad waiting."

 

Remy shrugged into the coat that Scott handed him. "Is it dat cold?"

 

"No, but I'm not taking any chances," Scott said, recalling Remy had been shivering lately.

 

Remy waved good-bye to Hank and shyly made eye contact with Warren, who had just stepped out of Hank's office. Remy mouthed 'Msorry' and then quickly exited the medlab. Warren didn't radiate any anger and Remy sighed, relieved. Maybe he could still make things up to the other man. Hopefully dere won' be any scars. I scratched his face pretty bad.

 

"Remy?" Scott pulled Remy into the correct direction when the Cajun absentmindedly took a wrong turn. "What are you thinking about?"

 

Remy shook his head. "Rien, not'in' important." He felt shy, realizing Scott had hung in there with him the entire time. Hank had told him that Scott had never left his side. Scott's devotion amazed him... and puzzled him. Maybe later he would get a chance to ask Scott why he was staying close.

 

A cold wind hit his skin and he quickly sped up, falling in step with Scott as they covered the distance to the boathouse. "Merci for de coat. It's cold after all."

 

"You're welcome, Remy." Scott stared at the sky, wondering how to bring up the kiss and his feelings. Maybe he should wait until Jean-Luc left? Some privacy would make things easier. "Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?" Scott gulped, realizing he had asked aloud. Stupid! He just went through something very traumatic and wants to be near his father!

 

Did Scott jus' ask me out? Remy stared at his shoes. Must be imaginin' t'ings... Peeking at Scott, he frowned. Was Scott really blushing? Did somet'in' happen dese last few days when... when Creed controlled me? Confused, he desperately tried to remember what had happened, but his mind remained blank.

 

"You don't have to," Scott said, quickly. "I'll understand perfectly if you want to spend time with your dad now that he's here."

 

He's scared I'll reject him! Fear of rejection clung to Scott and Remy blinked his eyes. "Non, Scott, I'd love to have dinner wit' you... I jus' didn' expect de invitation."

 

Scott glanced at Remy. He accepted the invitation... Swallowing hard, he barely restrained himself from folding an arm around Remy's form. These last few days he had done a lot of holding and comforting the Cajun and the instincts were still there, urging him to show his feelings, but he couldn't, not yet. First, he had to find out if Jean was right and if Remy really was attracted to him.

 

///

 

Sinister felt trapped inside the boathouse. Why had he promised to stay? I want Creed in my lab... want to punish him for what he did to my son! Maintaining this form didn't cause him any problems; he was more concerned that he would forget to use the accent.

 

Hearing voices, he walked to the front door and opened it. Scott and Remy were standing in front of him and his son was actually smiling at him. Remy flung himself at him and his son's arms buried him in a tight hug. He froze briefly, then forced himself to act as Jean-Luc would.

 

"Remy, mon fils, you look betta." Remy didn't release him and he started to feel uncomfortable. When had someone hugged him for the last time? My wife did... but she has been dead for so many centuries...

 

"Poppa, I missed you so bad... Can' believe you're here..." Remy's words were muffled, as he continued to cling to his father. "You're always dere for me when I need you most... merci."

 

A lump formed in Scott's throat. Remy only seemed to let go when Jean-Luc was close. I want him to trust me like that. I want to be there for him when he needs support. How can I convince him I'm serious? Well, telling him I've got feelings for him might be a good start.

 

Sinister cleared his throat and was relieved as Remy finally pulled back, loosening his hold. "Come, sit wit' me, mon fils. Tell me what's wrong." He guided Remy toward the couch and sat him down, ignoring Scott for now.

 

Scott closed the door and disappeared into the kitchen, realizing Remy and Jean-Luc needed some privacy and busied himself with preparing dinner.

 

Sinister observed Remy closely and frowned, seeing the bandaged wrists. "I never wanted you restrained."

 

"I know dat, poppa, mais you didn' have a choice, I understand." Remy smiled, blissfully. "I'm so glad you're here... I need you right now."

 

"Mais you've got Scott," Sinister said. He wouldn't stay much longer and wanted to soften the blow.

 

"Scott?" Remy's brow grew knitted. "I don' understand, poppa. Oui, Scott's a friend, mais..."

 

I can't believe I'm going to play matchmaker... Sinister sighed privately. But he needs to know there's someone he can rely on. I can't stay... I need to return to my research and... Revenge fantasies swept through mind. Creed was going to pay for hurting Remy!

 

"Poppa?" Confused, Remy looked over his shoulder at Scott, who was setting the table. It was a good thing Scott couldn't hear them.

 

"He's in love wit' you, petit. Why do you t'ink did he stay at your side?"

 

"Mais he loves Jean!"

 

"Jean's dead..." Sinister shook his head, hardly believing he was doing this. "Talk to Scott. Tell him how you feel and you'll find he feels de same way. Trust your poppa, Remy." He felt proud; not even Jean-Luc would have done a better job!

 

"Mebbe I should talk to Scott den?" Remy was reluctant to believe his father, but Jean-Luc had never lied to him.

 

Sinister nodded approvingly. "Do it now, Remy."

 

Remy rose from the couch, looking at his father for encouragement.

 

"Go on, you can do it, Remy." I'm driving him into Summers' arms... what am I doing? And why does it feel so right?

 

Remy was halfway to the kitchen when the phone rang. "I've got it!" he told them and picked up the phone. "Salut?"

 

"Remy! Mon fils! C'est bon to hear your voice! Sorry I didn' contact you any sooner, mais de Assassins been keepin' dis old man busy!"

 

Remy froze, forgot to breathe and his eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. "What?"

 

"Remy? Tante wants to say salut aussi, got a moment?"

 

"Non..." The phone slipped from his fingers and crashed onto the floor with a bang.

 

"Remy?" Alarmed, Scott hurried toward the Cajun. Remy looked deathly pale. "What happened? Who called?"

 

"Non... don' do dis to me..." Remy slowly turned about and stared at the man on the couch. "You ain' Jean-Luc LeBeau..." His father had just spoken to him on the phone and he had heard Mattie on the background, telling Jean-Luc to hand her the phone. "Who are you?" He grabbed Scott's arm to support himself. Shaking his head, he began to tremble as the intruder advanced on him. "Who are you?"

 

Scott had no idea what was going on, but he rested his hand at the small of Remy's back, lending the Cajun physical and emotional support.

 

His disguise was useless now and Sinister considered morphing back to his real form, but Remy's mind was still fragile... Facing this dilemma, he stood in front of his son, staring into Remy's eyes. "You know who I am..."

 

"Remy? What's going on? Talk to me." Alarmed, Scott tightened his hold on Remy, who shook violently.

 

"He ain' Jean-Luc LeBeau..." Remy whispered the words, shaking like a leaf.

 

"He's not?" Scott frowned. "Remy?"

 

Remy moistened his lips. "It's Sinister..." He gasped as Sinister morphed into his true form. Red eyes stared back at him and he flinched, once more reminded that they were father and son. Scott's gonna figure it out and den... I won' be welcome here any more...

 

Scott was ready to use his optic blast against their enemy and pulled Remy away from Sinister, stepping protectively in front of him. "What do you want, Sinister?" Why was Sinister playing head games? Hold on, he actually helped Remy release Creed's instincts... why help Remy?

 

Sinister grinned, turned around and opened a tesseract. He would collect Creed before returning to his lab, where he would continue to monitor Remy from a distance. Without speaking another word, he disappeared, leaving Remy and Scott behind.

 

Remy collapsed on the couch after the tesseract closed. Scott was holding him and whispering reassuring words. "I don' understand..."

 

"I don't understand it either," Scott said honestly. He wanted to add more, but the phone rang and he picked it up from the floor, handing it to Remy. "That's probably for you."

 

Remy's fingers trembled, answering the call. "Poppa?"

 

"Remy! What happened? De connection was gone and... are you bien?"

 

"I'm fine... poppa," Remy whispered, confused. "Can I ask you somet'in'?"

 

"Mais oui!"

 

"Did we ever talk in a cemetery in New York?" Remy's heart pounded madly. So many things depended on Jean-Luc's answer!

 

"Non, I don' remember comin' to New York..."

 

Remy's heart missed a beat. His nightmare was coming true. "What 'bout seven mont's ago? Did you come to Westchester to talk to me?" If Jean-Luc wasn' de one talkin' to me at deir grave, who was? Who talked me into lowerin' my shields when Scott's depression controlled me? Please say you were dere!

 

"Non, Remy. I haven' even left N'Arlings dese last few mont's. Mon fils?"

 

Remy swallowed hard. It was Sinister... Sinister talked to me after I left Mike... talked me into lowerin' my shields... was dere for me when Creed's urges controlled me... why?

 

I don't know why, Scott replied. Maybe you need to ask him?

 

Startled, Remy realized that Scott had received his thoughts. Merde, he had forgotten to shield them, but maybe this was for the best.

 

"Remy?" Jean-Luc sounded truly concerned. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"

 

"Oui, you can say dat... Can I call you back later?" He needed some time to process the truth. It was Sinister who had helped him, not Jean-Luc!

 

"Mais oui, don' wait too long, mon fils."

 

Remy terminated the call and stared at the wall. Sinister helped me, not Jean-Luc...

 

Remy, you know I'm receiving your thoughts?

 

Oui, can' lock you out... not now... can' concentrate.

 

Remy, do you have any idea why Sinister helped you? Scott wasn't sure he wanted to know, but Remy needed to talk about this. He rubbed Remy's arms, pulled the Cajun's back against his chest and rested his head on the other man's shoulder. Remy didn't pull away and he held his breath, waiting for the moment when Remy registered how close he really was.

 

Remy couldn't lie, couldn't hide the truth any longer. Emotionally, he felt drained and naked. "Sinister is my fat'er, my biological fat'er..." Scott froze and he cringed, waiting for the other man to push him away now that the truth was in the open. "De one t'in' I never told you was dat he sired me himself... he killed my mot'er... wanted my DNA for his experiments... saved my life 'caus he didn' want to lose access to my DNA... why did he pretend he cared? I don' understand..."

 

Scott let him rave, and merely held on tighter. "Remy?"

 

"When I found out, I didn' want to believe him, mais... de eyes, you know... I've got his eyes and..." Remy almost choked on the words. "I'm his son... You no longer want me 'round, do you? Can pack my t'ings and leave right now..." He erected his shields again, keeping Scott's thoughts out, not wanting to feel the other man's loathing.

 

Shocked, Scott tried to deal with this new information. Sinister's his father... and Remy expects to be kicked out... things never change. "Remy? Listen to me?" He whispered the words into Remy's ear and gently rubbed the Cajun's arms. "There's something you need to know. I should have told you some time ago, but..."

 

Remy only now grew aware of Scott's tight hold. He squirmed in the embrace until he faced Scott. The damn visor was hiding Scott's eyes and he felt lost, unwilling to peek at the other man's feelings. He refused to invade Scott's privacy like that.

 

"I developed certain feelings for you. I... I'm in love with you. I want to make this work and I know Jean wants this to work."

 

"How?" Remy shook his head. "Jean's dead..."

 

"She left messages for me... she told me you’ve had this crush on me for years." His heart throbbed heavily and his stomach was doing somersaults, almost leaving him nauseous due to nervousness. "Was she right? Do you love me?"

 

"Loved you for years," Remy admitted, sincerely. Lying wouldn't get him anywhere and he wasn't sure he could lie while being this close to Scott. The other man's arms were still wrapped around him, and encouraged, he added, "Mais never made a move on you... you loved Jean."

 

"I'll always love Jean. She'll always be in my heart, but there's room for you too... if you want me," he added hesitantly. "I know this is unexpected, and you're still shook up about learning that it was Sinister and not Jean-Luc who helped you... but..."

 

Remy raised his right hand and placed a finger against Scott's lips, shutting him up. "You can' love me, cher."

 

"But I do..." Scott smiled. "We even kissed already."

 

"Huh?" Puzzled, Remy cocked his head. "I'd remember dat."

 

"One time you charged the restraints and broke free. I had to do something to stop you and... I kissed you." Scott grinned, as Remy's eyes grew big. "Do you remember now?"

 

Remy blushed, as that particular memory returned to him. "You kissed me and... I said your name. I didn' know who you were, mais when you kissed me..."

 

"I'd like to do some more kissing... if that's okay with you," Scott whispered, seductively and cradled the back of Remy's head in the palm of his hand. "Do you want this to work? Because I do..."

 

Scott moved closer and Remy sighed, blissfully, as soft lips brushed his. Oui, want dis to work, mais are you sure you know what you're gettin' yourself into? I'm trouble and Sinister...

 

We'll deal with Sinister together.

 

Remy closed his eyes as Scott deepened the kiss. I never t'ought dis moment would ever happen...

 

It's happening, believe me. Scott smiled. Privately, he addressed Jean. Thanks Jean, thanks for showing me the way... thanks for kicking my ass and telling me to choose the living and to love again. I won't disappoint you... or Remy... I promise.

 

///

 

Sinister materialized in Creed's cell and grinned, as Creed startled awake from his light sleep. "You'll do nicely for the experiment I've got in mind."

 

Creed stared at Sinister. "What are ya talkin' bout? And how did ya get passed their security system?" Sinister moved unexpectedly and the scientist's hand locked around his throat, crushing his larynx.

 

"An eye for an eye..." Sinister whispered ominously. Footsteps echoed behind him and he looked over his shoulder, fearlessly meeting Logan's eyes. "Stay out of this."

 

Logan growled and wanted to move forward, but Sinister was even faster and stepped into the tessseract, dragging a choking Creed with him. The tesseract closed and Logan stared at an empty cell.

 

///

 

Creed's eyes bulged and his fists banged against the container. Sinister had locked him up in here and he drifted in icy cold water. Electricity traveled through the water, shocking him. He wanted to scream, but the gag prevented it.

 

Sinister laughed. "Eternity is too short a time for you to pay for your sins..." After raising the voltage, he nodded his head as Creed's body contorted with pain. "This is only the beginning... your suffering will be eternal..." Turning about, he shut down the lights and left this part of the lab.

 

Creed was still screaming his soundless agony... but no one heard him...

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Epilogue

Trust

 

"Good morning, handsome." Scott teasingly licked the nape of Remy's neck. Lying spooned behind the Cajun, he inhaled his lover's scent, loving the slightly spicy fragrance of Remy's cologne.

 

"Mornin', cher." Remy yawned, stretched and then rolled onto his other side so he was facing Scott. "Still can' believe I'll wake up in your arms for de rest of my life."

 

Scott caressed Remy's cheek and then traced the outline of his lover's luscious lips. "I know what you're trying to say. It feels surreal to me as well. God, I'm so lucky to have you."

These last seven mornings they had woken up in the same bed, holding each other tightly. It didn't bother him that they hadn't had sex yet. He wanted to deepen their relationship first and not hurry their lovemaking. Things would happen once they were ready to take that step. Although it's getting harder to ignore my hormones... I feel like a horny teenager again!

 

Remy gave Scott a wicked grin. "Cher?" The sheet did little to hide Scott's morning erection and he felt tempted to take care of it. Would Scott let him? "Wanna make you feel good," he whispered seductively while slipping his hand beneath the sheet. He paused in his movement, awaiting Scott's permission.

 

"Only if you want to." Scott licked his lips. When he couldn't sleep at night, he wondered about their future love life. Remy had been through a lot at a tender age and he didn't know how comfortable Remy was with the idea of going all the way so he had decided to let his lover set the pace.

 

"Oui, I wanna." Remy leaned in closer and pressed a passionate kiss on Scott's lips. He curled his fingers around his lover's erection and pumped slowly, wanting to make this last. "Cher, can I ask you somet'in' personal?"

 

Scott bit his bottom lip. I can't believe he wants to talk right now when he's... that feels nice...

 

You like dat, cher? Teasingly, he quickened his strokes. His tongue licked its way down to Scott's nipple and after lavishing the first erect nub, he gave the other nipple the same treatment, suckling softly. Scott bucked and panted softly. "Close?"

 

"Too close..." Scott arched his back, fucking Remy's hand and finally released his come with a blissful moan. "Oh, yeah..." Closing his eyes, he sighed contently.

 

"What's de color of your eyes?" Remy wickedly milked his lover's cock dry and then used the corner of the sheet to wipe Scott clean.

 

"Huh?" Scott stared at Remy. "What?"

 

"Your eye color..." Dreamily, Remy stared at his lover's face. "De visor and your glasses 'ways hide your eyes..." Lazily he rolled onto his back, and with legs spread wide, he stared at the ceiling.

 

Scott elbowed himself into a sitting position. Remy had dropped the dirty sheet onto the floor and he now had an excellent view of his lover's naked body. He's hard as well... I wonder, can I return the favor? He was nervous, but was determined to follow Remy's example. Slowly, his right hand traveled down Remy's chest, leaving caresses in its trail.

 

Remy cocked his head and looked at him, questioningly.

 

"Is it okay if I...?" Scott didn't know how to phrase the request. Instead, he gently touched Remy's cock and stroked experimentally.

 

"Mais oui." Pleasantly surprised, Remy smiled and pressed deeper into the comfort of the mattress. Remy knew Scott had never been with a man before and he realized how awkward and new this must be for his lover. "Mais you didn' answer my question." His breath caught as Scott cupped his balls, massaging them gently. "Oh, mon amour..."

 

Remy's pupils dilated and Scott leaned in closer to presses kisses on his lover's chest, briefly teasing Remy's belly button with the tip of his tongue. Remy wiggled, squirmed, protested and Scott finally obliged him, returning to pumping his lover's erection. "They’re brown."

 

"Brown?" Remy smiled, rested his hand against the back of Scott's neck and pulled his lover in for a kiss. After releasing Scott's lips, he smiled. "Merci for tellin' me."

 

"Why do you want to know?" Rolling an erect nipple between his fingertips, Scott realized that he loved seeing Remy's squirm. His lover's balls tightened, he arched his back and Remy released a soft moan as a white, creamy liquid flowed over his hand. Scott rewarded his lover with another kiss, chasing Remy's tongue until the Cajun yielded to him.

 

Sated, Remy's expression grew draped with fulfilled passion. "Jus' wish I could have seen dem... jus' once... My empat’y tells me what you feel, mais I miss lookin' into your eyes to see it confirmed." He didn't add that he hated the ruby glasses with a passion.

 

Scott grabbed the already soiled sheet and cleaned them up. Remy's words made him wonder... "Remy, I want to get away from the mansion, just for a few days. There's a cabin, only a few hours away from here... would you spend the weekend with me up there?" He was babbling, stuttering and felt nervous because of the direction his thoughts were taking. "I want to... want to make love to you, but not here. I want our first time to be special..." Remy's perplexed look puzzled him. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

 

"You wanna make love to me?" Remy swallowed hard. "Cher, are you ready to take dat step?"

 

"I'm sure," Scott reassured him. "I don't know how to explain it, but... I love you and I want to be with you." He desperately hoped Remy understood. "I want to complete our bond..." He felt excited about making love to Remy, to a man. Hormones!

 

"I understand, cher. I feel de same way." Remy blushed. "Dese last few nights I've been dreamin' of makin' love wit' you."

 

"You have?" Scott grinned. "Tell me about it?"

 

Feeling shy, Remy shrugged his shoulders. "I don' have dat much experience eit'er." He refused to think about Hugo right now. Hugo didn't count. "I've only been wit' one homme before... his name's Mike and..." Remy paused, gathering his thoughts. "Mais t'ings would be different wit' you... want to feel you inside me."

 

"Remy, are you sure about that?" He didn't want to bring up Hugo or Remy's life on the streets. "Do you think you'd be comfortable being...?"

 

"Bein' de bottom?" Remy nodded his head firmly. "Oui, I do. Why?" He read the question on Scott's face. "Cause I trust you. I never trusted anyone like dat before... Oui, Jean-Luc, mais he doesn' count... dis is 'bout trustin' lovers and Jean-Luc's... poppa."

 

"What about... flashbacks? Aren't you afraid that...?" Scott grew silence when Remy rested a finger against his lips and let his lover talk.

 

"I ain' afraid, cher. Dat's de point I'm tryin' to make. I know you love me... I know you'll never hurt me. Oui, it's only been a week, mais... I'm an empat'. I never wanted to be one, mais right now I'm happy to be one." Scott's feelings were close to the surface and constantly assured him of Scott's love and affection for him.

 

Dazed, Scott tried to find the right words. "I trust you too, Remy, but..."

 

"No ‘but’ cher... I dealt wit' my past. I trust you." Remy smiled, pressed his lips against Scott's and suckled the other man's bottom lip. With a soft 'plop' he released the bruised lip. "Mebbe at de cabin?"

 

"Maybe," Scott whispered, giving in. "Why don't you start packing? I want to leave first thing in the morning." Cuddling up to Remy, he folded his arms around his lover. But first I need to talk to Hank...

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Are you ready to go?" Scott placed his duffle bag in the trunk of the car and leaned against it, watching Remy gracefully make his way toward him. It was hot and the Cajun was only wearing a silk shirt and tight jeans... Way too tight.

 

"Merci, cher. I'm glad you like my ass," Remy said teasingly, receiving Scott's thoughts. Wickedly, he wiggled his ass while throwing his duffle bag next to Scott's.

 

"You're going to be the death of me," Scott remarked, pretending annoyance. "Get your ass in the car, Gambit."

 

Remy grinned and sat down on the passenger's seat. "Hope you don' mind me takin' a nap... Someone kept me up all night..."

 

Scott keyed the ignition and snorted. "If I remember correctly it was you who wanted a repeat performance..." Seductively, Remy had moved against him last night, and he had accepted the invitation. Pumping slowly, they had brought each other to orgasm.

 

Remy opened one eye and raised an eyebrow. "Moi? I'm innocent... I didn' do a t'ing!"

 

Scott decided to give in gracefully. Although he enjoyed the verbal banter, he had to concentrate on the road. He had been to the cabin only once and he didn't want to get lost.

 

Scott?

 

Yes, Remy? The one thing he had noticed about Remy was that his lover used telepathy when he wanted to address a sensitive issue.

 

Shouldn' be askin', mais... when you were at de cabin... were you 'lone? If Scott had been there with Jean, going back to the cabin might evoke unpleasant memories.

 

You want to know if I took Jean there. Although he was comfortable with discussing Jean, Remy still seemed hesitant. No, Alex took me there once. I've never been there with Jean. That's why I want to go there. I want it be our place... A place where we can go to unwind and just be... ourselves.

 

You're creatin' memories...

 

What? Scott glanced at Remy. "I'm doing what?"

 

"In a few weeks' time we can say, 'Remember bein' at de cabin?' You're creatin' memories... places, moments dat belong to us, only us." Remy averted his eyes and stared at his hands, which were resting in his lap.

 

Scott didn't really know what to make of Remy's remark. "Is that a good thing?"

 

"Oui," Remy sighed, relieved, and smiled weakly. "It's a very good t'ing."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Four hours later, they finally arrived at the cabin. Curiously, Remy explored their temporary home and found it quite luxurious. "It even has a Jacuzzi!" There was one master bedroom on the first floor and Remy threw his duffle bag onto the bed. "What do we do now?"

 

Scott shook his head, marveling at Remy's display of energy. "It's still a bit early to fix dinner. Maybe we can go for a walk?" Scott deposited his duffle bag as well and Remy followed him outside. "Why am I feeling like a teenager?" He had the absurd desire to hold Remy's hand while taking that walk.

 

"Bein' in love does strange t'ings to people," Remy wisecracked and promptly grabbed Scott's hand, gently rubbing its knuckles. "Is dere any food?" Together they briefly searched the kitchen.

 

"Looks like it." Scott was pleased to find the shelves stocked. "Maybe you can make some Gumbo tonight?" Remy's brilliant smile took him aback.

 

"Sure." Remy pulled Scott toward the doorway. "And later we can..." Rocking his hips, he left little to imagination.

 

"You horny little Cajun!"

 

"Hey, I resent bein' called li'l!" Remy pulled Scott close for a kiss. "And afterwards, I wanna lick my dessert."

 

Remy's teasing remark went straight to his cock and Scott moaned softly. "Horny devil, you..."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"You're an excellent cook, Remy. Never had better Gumbo in my life." Remy blushed and he realized it was because he had complimented the Cajun. Hey, it's the truth! It was obvious that Remy wasn't used to compliments and he was determined to render that.

 

"Merci..." Remy pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. "Can I have my dessert now?"

 

Scott couldn't deny his lover. The expression in Remy's eyes spoke of nothing but desire and love. "Sure, you can have your dessert." After rising from his chair, he walked over to the Cajun and folded his arms around him. "Why don't you warm the bed for me?"

 

"You ain' joinin' me?" Worried, Remy frowned. "Somet'in' wrong?"

 

"Nothing's wrong," he quickly reassured Remy. "I just want to clean up in here. I'll join you in five minutes and you'd better be naked..." Brushing Remy's lips, he hoped his lover didn't pick up on his white lie. He had to do something before joining his lover in bed, but it wasn't cleaning up the kitchen.

 

Still worried, Remy gave in. "Don' take too long." Why was Scott stalling? Had he changed his mind? "We don' have to..."

 

"Remy, I want to make love to you, please believe me. Just give me those five minutes."

 

Sighing, Remy turned around and climbed the stairs to their bedroom. "Five minutes, cher, or I'll be back to haul you upstairs..."

 

"Duly noted." He waited until Remy had disappeared into their bedroom before uncovering the little package he had hidden in one of the cupboards. Opening it, he stared at the necklace inside. I'm doing this for Remy... for us. His hands trembled as he removed the necklace from the case. After taking a deep breath, he slipped the necklace over his head and hesitantly removed his ruby glasses. Then he climbed the stairs to join his lover.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Remy didn't know why he felt nervous. Scott wanted this as much as he did, so why did he feel shy when he slipped beneath the covers? It was the thrill of being with a new lover for the very first time. He had only once before felt thrilled in this way and that had been when he and Mike had made love, but now the roles were reversed. Scott would be on top and that was just the way he wanted it. He wanted Scott to make love to him, relished handing over control for the moment. Lately, he wanted to be spoiled, to be taken care of, and to be cherished and he had read the desire to spoil him rotten in Scott's mind.

 

He had faced his personal demon in the Danger Room when Scott had recreated Hugo as a hologram. The pain and fears no longer haunted him and he felt ready to take the next step... finally.

 

"Remy?"

 

He looked up, hearing the uncertainty in Scott's voice. "Oui, cher?" His eyes fastened on his lover's face and he forgot to breathe, staring into hazel brown eyes. "What? Cher? Scott...?" Stuttering, he stared into Scott's eyes. His eyes! Mon Dieu! His glasses are gone and I can see his eyes... Mon Dieu, dey're beautiful... mais I don' understand! His optic blast should have devastated de cabin by now!

 

Remy, it's okay. Scott hurried over to the bed and sat down beside his lover. "Hank helped. He has been researching the Genoshan collars and... this necklace... it acts like one. It just doesn't look as horrible as the collars do." Remy was still staring at him, shocked. "Remy, breathe!"

 

Remy drew in a deep breathe. "You're wearin' a collar? Why?"

 

"You wanted to see my eyes, didn't you? When you asked about my eye color I felt the desire behind the question."

 

"And you asked Henri to make dis necklace? For me? You did dat for me?"

 

"Don't start crying, Remy, just don't!" Scott cringed, seeing Remy's watering eyes. "Hey, this was supposed to make you happy!"

 

"I jus' don' understand why you'd do it..." Remy raised a trembling hand and rested it against Scott's cheek. "Oui, 'ways wanted to see your eyes, mais..."

 

"I want to make you happy and if seeing my eyes makes you happy, that's what I'm going to do. It's okay, Remy. I'm okay with this."

 

"Mais your powers!" Remy shook his head in disbelief. Cautiously, his fingertips caressed his lover's eyelashes. The soft lashes ghosted against his skin and he sucked in his breath. "You did dis for me?"

 

"For us, Remy..." Realizing it was time to take action, he leaned in closer and kissed Remy. After bringing his hands up behind the Cajun's back, he gently lay his lover down. "Are you sure about this, Remy?"

 

"Oui," Remy sighed, blissfully. Scott's naked skin moved against his, causing him to grow erect within seconds. Scott had given him the ultimate gift; he was finally able to look into his lover's eyes. Spreading his legs, he waited for Scott to settle between his thighs. "I want dis..."

 

Scott took his time, caressing his lover's body, worshipping it. His tongue left a wet trail down Remy's chest and he pressed kisses all over his lover's belly. Last night, Remy's assurance that they didn't need any condoms had made him wonder and he had insisted that they both got tested. After Hank had given them the results, he had agreed with his lover. "No barriers, nothing will keep us apart."

 

Remy arched his back as Scott showered the insides of his thighs with kisses. "Cher, please... won' last long." Clutching Scott's head between his hands, he smiled, seeing the passion in his lover's eyes. "Please... make love to me..." Foreplay was keeping him from attaining his true goal, which was feeling Scott inside him. "Want you."

 

Scott nodded his head. "You'll have me, Remy." When Remy reached for the lube, he batted the Cajun's hands away. "Not yet... I want to try something."

 

Remy's breath grew ragged as Scott's tongue lapped at the head of his erection. "Oh, mon coeur, what are you doin' to me? Gonna come if you keep dis up!" Scott suckled at the slit and Remy released a strangled moan. "Too close, cher, too close!"

 

Scott grinned, pleased that he was making Remy squirm and plead. "I want to try one more thing..." Moving down Remy's thighs, he slid his hands beneath his lover's buttocks.

 

Remy jerked as Scott licked his way to his little pucker. "Mon Dieu!" Scott had taken him by surprise; never expecting Scott to rim him. His lover's agile tongue probed his opening, slowly dipping inside. "Cher, please... Don' wanna come and leave you behind!"

 

Urged on by Remy's needy tone, Scott finally grabbed the lube and squeezed a generous amount onto his finger. "I'm new at this, Remy... I want you to tell me if I do something wrong. I don't want to hurt you."

 

Remy nodded his head. "Want dis, really do..." He grabbed a pillow and pushed it beneath his hips to give Scott easier access. "Mon Dieu, want dis so bad... never t'ought I'd ever want dis so bad..." Scott's finger slid inside and he moaned low in his throat. "Oui, more..."

 

Scott licked his lips, never losing his concentration. Remy seemed relaxed, but he wasn't taking any risks. Sliding in and out of the hot passage, his finger encountered a nub and Remy arched his back when his fingertip stroked it.

 

"Mon Dieu! Scott... more, more, now!" Dazedly, Remy stared at his lover.

 

Scott obliged and stroked the gland once more. Remy whimpered softly and he realized that his lover was on the edge. Any more stimulation and Remy would come. He pulled back, added more lube and returned with two fingers. This time he avoided hitting Remy's prostate and concentrated on preparing his lover. "Do you think you're... you're ready?" Although he tried to radiate calm and control, he felt insecure. He had never been with a man!

 

"Oui, am ready," Remy quickly assured him. "Ease inside... don' force it..."

 

Scott curled his fingers around his cock after quickly coating himself with lube and positioned himself at his lover's opening. "Ready?"

 

"Oui," Remy sighed. His eyes locked with Scott's and he never released the hold he had on those magnificent brown orbs, as his lover carefully pushed inside. The guardian ring yielded and his toes curled as Scott eased in deeper. "Oui, oui..." Pushing back, he panted softly as Scott's balls hit his skin. "Inside, inside me... mine..."

 

Scott blinked; he needed a moment to process everything. "Remy, I'm..." Looking down at their joined bodies, he blushed. "I'm inside you..."

 

Remy grinned. "Oui, you're mine now..." He wrapped his legs around his lover's waist and enfolded Scott in a hug. "Move... make love to me..."

 

Scott buried his face in Remy's locks and established a slow, lazy rhythm. After changing the angle, he heard Remy gasp and realized that he had found the right position to hit his lover's prostate with every stroke.

 

"More, faster..." Remy panted, pushing back to meet each of Scott's thrusts.

 

"No," Scott whispered and maintained their slow and comfortable rhythm. Looking at his lover, he found that Remy had closed his eyes. "Hey, look at me Remy."

 

Remy's eyes flashed open. Meeting Scott's, he was overcome by the love in them. "Mon coeur..." Scott's slow, deep thrusts set him on fire and he managed to slide one hand between their bodies to pump his own cock in rhythm to his lover's thrusts.

 

Scott licked his lover's skin beneath the collarbone and aimed for Remy's prostate... hitting it hard. His lover rocked beneath him and hot cream shot against his stomach. His eyes widened as Remy's inner muscle contracted around his cock and the sensation pushed him over the edge. "Re... my..." Climaxing, he whispered his lover's name, trying to express the love he felt.

 

Panting, they stared at each other and Remy reached up and brushed his lover's lips. "Je t'aime, mon coeur."

 

"I love you too, Remy." Scott returned the kiss and deepened it, trying to make up for Remy's loss as his sated sex slipped from his lover's body. Satiated, but exhausted, he collapsed beside his lover.

 

"Merci for dis gift..." Remy kissed his lover's eyes, showering them with feather light kisses. "No one ever... no one... never... before... until you..."

 

"What are you trying to say?" Scott quickly cleaned his lover and then pulled up the comforter. Remy was shivering and he was growing cold as well. Cradled by the soft comforter, the warm cocoon supplied a safe haven. Remy's draped eyes stared back at him.

 

"Rogue... we could have touched if she had worn a collar, mais she refused... no one ever gave me such a gift. You're de first who really loves me..." He hated bringing up Rogue, but he wanted Scott to understand. "You really love me..."

 

"Yeah, I do, Remy." Scott enfolded his lover in a tight hug. "And I don't mind wearing the necklace... I love the expression in your eyes when you look at me..."

 

Remy closed his eyes and rested his head against Scott's chest, snuggling up to his lover. For the first time in his life, he felt happy, truly happy and loved.

 

 

The End

March 2002


	5. Return to Innocence.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remy discovers that Scott's secret wish is having a real family, including kids.  
> Frustrated that he can't fulfill Scott's wish because he's a man he seeks out   
> Sinister's help, uncertain if the mad scientist will lure him into another trap.  
> Accepting all risks that come with a male pregnancy, he hides his condition  
> from Scott until destiny strikes.

Return to Innocence

 

Remy opened his eyes, feeling incredibly sleepy and satiated at the same time. His body buzzed with life after making love with Scott. The final act had been sweet and loving, just as he had hoped it would be. And Scott had even worn a modified collar so his eyes were visible. Has to be true l'amour!

 

But why was he alone in bed? He distinctly remembered falling asleep in Scott's arms. Alarmed, he sat upright in bed. Shivering from the cold, he wrapped the sheet around his body and left the warm bed. Instinctively, he walked over to the window and felt humbled at the sight of the magnificent sunset. In the distance, sitting with his back against a tree, was Scott. His empathy was strong enough to receive Scott's melancholy and worried, he grabbed a shirt and jeans, quickly slipping into them.

 

Why was Scott feeling down? Was it something he had done? No, he refused to believe that Scott had second thoughts about making love to him. Scott had been ecstatic and it had been Scott's idea to take the final step.

 

Apprehensively, he started for Scott, hoping the other man would accept his company. No matter how strong Scott's love for him was he still feared rejection. It was impossible to shake lifelong insecurities within a few weeks.

 

"Scott? Cher?" He remained a few feet away, unwilling to infringe on Scott's privacy.

 

Scott stared at the red, burning sky and finally acknowledged his lover by nodding his head.

 

Shyly, Remy sat down beside Scott, not touching yet, still maintaining some distance. "Want me to stay or to leave? I'll understand if you don' wanna talk." He did his best to hide his fear of rejection, but realized that some of it had seeped through the link and into Scott's mind. During these last few intimate hours, their bond had deepened.

 

"Empaths..." Scott mumbled, resting a hand on Remy's arm, gently stroking his lover's skin.

 

Remy grew more confident, encouraged by Scott's touch. "Somethin' wrong, cher?"

 

"Not wrong... not exactly... wrong is the wrong word," Scott mused, dryly. Smiling, he cocked his head and looked at his lover. "Nothing can be wrong after making love to you. Everything's right."

 

Remy blushed and averted his eyes. He had seldom felt this shy. His empathy told him that Scott was telling him the truth. "Mais you feel sad for some reason, cher."

 

Scott nodded his head. Lying to a telepath never worked. "I'm thinking, Remy... remembering."

 

"Rememberin' what?" Why did he fear the answer?

 

Scott took hold of Remy's icy cold hands and warmed them in his. He read the insecurity in his lover's eyes and mind, and the last thing he wanted was to upset Remy, but he had to be honest with his lover. "I was thinking about Jean." The sudden guilty expression in Remy's eyes made him cringe. "Remy, Jean wants us to be happy, always remember that. But you also have to understand that Jean was such a big part of my life that I can't simply forget about her." He silenced the Cajun with a gentle kiss. "I know you don't want me to forget her, I really do, but at the same time you feel...?"

 

Realizing Scott wanted him to finish the sentence for him, he cleared his throat and gathered his courage. Speaking about Jean was always hard on him for some elusive reason. "I feel like I stole you from her... If she were still 'live you'd be wit' her, not me... Jean and you belon' toget'er and..."

 

"Once we get back to the mansion I want you to watch the messages Jean left behind." He gently squeezed Remy's hand. "She knew you loved me and no, you're not second best. I choose to be with you. I want to be with you. We're going to be all right, Remy."

 

Remy licked his lips. "Cher, why feel sad?" He felt like he still hadn't reached the heart of the matter. Jean was part of it, but...

 

Now Scott felt uncomfortable. He had hoped that Remy wouldn't pressure him into talking, but at the same time he realized that he didn't want to have secrets from Remy. Folding an arm around his lover, he pulled Remy close and encouraged the younger man to rest his head against his shoulder. Remy accepted.

 

"Dat bad?" Remy swallowed, nervously.

 

"No, it's just... Jean and I hoped to have kids some day... A boy and a girl, who we could raise and watch become adults." Scott smiled, saddened.

 

You never bonded wit' Rachel... alas, mais... "What 'bout Madeline? What about your fils...?" Remy wasn't sure he should address this, but Scott seemed willing to talk about it, to unburden his soul.

 

"I was a real mess back then. Jean had died and Maddie... I don't think I ever really loved her and Nate... I didn't spend a whole lot of time with him and later Rachel had to take him with her into the future." Scott shook his head. "Why can't I have a break in life? Why can't I sit back and enjoy watching them grow up? I want to be a real father... someone who's always there for them..."

 

Remy cringed. What Scott wants is de one t'ing I can't give him...

 

"Hey!" Alarmed, Scott hugged his lover close. "You make me happy, Remy. Don't make a big fuss over this. We get new kids at the Academy each year and some of them will need a father figure. We can 'adopt' them, plus it will be fun to have all this time to ourselves."

 

"Mais it ain' de same..." I wish I could give you what you want...

 

Scott regretted ever mentioning it to Remy. In an effort to distract Remy, he leaned in closer and claimed his lover's lips. I love you, Remy, he told his lover telepathically. Remy's eyes began to burn.

 

Je t'aime, cher, mais...

 

"There's no 'mais', Remy." He rubbed Remy's back with long, soothing strokes. Using a minimum of strength, he laid Remy down on the grass and continued to kiss his lover breathlessly. Remy's body heat warmed him and his groin stirred. Growing hard, he moaned his desire.

 

Oh, cher, je t'aime... Remy cupped the back of Scott's head in his hand and enjoyed his lover's closeness. Spreading his legs, he invited Scott to settle between them; an invitation, which Scott eagerly accepted. Within seconds, Remy was hard and craving release. Trusting himself to Scott, he sighed as his lover unbuttoned his jeans, allowing his throbbing cock to bounce free. Was Scott going to take him again? If he was honest with himself, he had to admit to feeling sore...

 

Scott read that particular worry in Remy's mind and deepened the kiss. Although making love to Remy had been sweet last night, he didn't plan on taking his lover again this soon, not as long as Remy was suffering from any discomfort. There were other ways to express their love.

 

Agile thief's hands unzipped him and pulled down his jeans and boxers. Aligning their cocks, Scott started a slow rhythm, reaffirming their love. "I love you..." Remy's empathy flared, setting his mind on fire and united them in a passionate climax.

 

Coming hard, they clung to each other. "You're amazing, Remy."

 

Satiated, Remy smiled. He vividly recalled the rapture he had seen in Scott's eyes when his lover had come last night.

 

"We should head back, take a shower and start dinner... darling..." Scott added the endearment hesitantly, uncertain how Remy would react.

 

"Darlin'?" Remy smiled lazily, stretching his body like a cat. No lover had ever bothered with an endearment before. "I like it."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After dinner, they settled down on the couch. Remy was reading a book, snuggled up to Scott's side. His lover was flipping channels until he found a news broadcast.

 

"Hey, come here..." Scott firmly pulled his lover down until his knees served as a pillow, supporting Remy's head. "What are you reading?"

 

It had been months since he'd had the energy and desire to read a good book and he had found this one at the cabin. "Didn' have much choice, cher..." Closing the book, he presented it to Scott.

 

Curiously, Scott read the title on the cover. "The Vampire Armand?" He chuckled softly. "Remy?"

 

"Hey, don' look at me like dat! It's a good book!" Muttering softly, he flipped back to the right page and continued reading. "Bah, it's a good book... you should read it... very sensual..."

 

"Sensual?" Scott provocatively licked his lips.

 

"Oh, cher... stop distractin' me!" Remy squirmed, pretending annoyance. He lifted his right hand and caressed his lover's face. Suddenly the laughter and the teasing died. "I'm really sorry, cher..."

 

Scott frowned. "Sorry for what?"

 

"Dat Jean and you never got to enjoy de chil'ren. You're bon parents... I can tell."

 

"You can?" The frown on Scott's brown deepened. Ever since he had admitted to Remy that he would have liked to have children, his lover been depressed, like it was his fault that they couldn't have any children. "Remy?"

 

"Jean-Luc adopted me... you know dat... he's de only real poppa I've ever had... Sinister only wanted me for his experiments and even Jean-Luc... He stole me from de hospital when I was li'l. Every chile wants someone who loves dem unconditionally. Jean-Luc only tried so hard 'cause he made a mistake..."

 

"Did you ever talk to Jean-Luc about this? Does he know that... that you know what happened after you were born? He called you a few days ago, didn't he?"

 

Remy shivered. "Oui, dat was when I found out Sinister was playin' me..."

 

"Playing you... he did help you, didn't he?" Scott didn't want to play devil's advocate, but had no choice. Sinister's behavior still had him puzzled. "It almost looked like Sinister really cared about what happened to you."

 

"Cher, he uses my DNA to conduct his experiments wit'... dat wasn' 'bout me..."

 

Scott couldn't bear seeing the sad expression in Remy's eyes. "Are you sure? I mean, you're the empath... didn't you feel anything else?"

 

"He has tight shields, cher. I only felt what he wanted me to feel."

 

"Are you going to talk to them? Both of them? You lost your trust in Jean-Luc when you found out that he stole you from the hospital. Do you want to continue to feel like you can't trust him?"

 

Remy closed his eyes. "I don' wanna t'ink 'bout dat."

 

"You have to... and then there's Sinister..." Scott took a deep breath and fingered a silken lock of his lover's hair. "You weren't conscious at the time, Remy, but I don't think he faked his concern. He sat at your bedside the entire time, trying to connect with you. There were real emotions in his eyes, in his face. His body was tense... you can't fake things like that."

 

"You mean dat?" Remy licked his lips and tried to reconcile the image Scott painted with that of the mad scientist that had sent him into the Morlock tunnels... he failed. "You must be wrong, cher. He acted his part... he don' care."

 

"I'm not so sure..." But Scott decided not to push Remy and changed their subject instead. "Are you moving into my rooms or am I moving into yours?" They hadn't discussed living arrangements yet.

 

"I don' know," Remy whispered, cautiously. "What do you want?" He would rather not live in the same quarters where Jean and Scott had lived as a married couple, but he forced himself to let Scott decide.

 

Scott nodded his head, reading part of Remy's thoughts and wondered if his lover was aware that his mind was wide open. "Your room? That's if you don't mind me moving in with you?" Now that he was thinking it over, he had to agree with Remy. It was best to make a fresh start. Living in his rooms would constantly remind him of Jean and if he wanted this relationship to work, he had to put Remy first.

 

Remy nodded eagerly. "Would love to have you, cher..."

 

"Okay, we'll move my stuff to your room." Scott tried to pay more attention to the news broadcast, but Remy's closeness kept distracting him. "I'm really glad things are working out between us."

 

"Me too," Remy admitted, smiled and picked up reading where he had left off.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Remy tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He was holding Scott close, lying spooned behind his lover, but tonight Scott's presence didn't soothe him. He felt restless and... inadequate, even guilty. He loved Scott and wished he could give his lover what he really wanted; a child of their own, but it would never happen. Maybe they could adopt one?

 

That idea had him wondering about his own abilities to be a good parent. His youth had shaped him into the person he was today and he doubted he would make a good parent. Yes, Jean-Luc was a good role model, but raising a kid himself was a different matter. He would probably do everything wrong.

 

Unable to sleep, he untangled himself from Scott and left the bed. He slipped into the bathrobe and descended the stairs. Maybe watching some TV or reading his book would make him fall asleep.

 

But sixty minutes later he was still awake. His telepathy told him that Scott was still asleep and he switched off the TV. Maybe he needed some fresh air. How cold would it be outside? He detoured to the bathroom, searched the laundry basket and dressed in some sweats. After stepping into his shoes and draping his coat over his shoulders, he finally stepped outside.

 

Il fait très froid. Hugging the coat closer to his frame, he headed for the spot where he had found Scott earlier that evening. He sat down on the cold grass and shivered. I'm probably gonna catch a cold... dis is madness. What de hell am I doin' out here at dis hour? I should be in bed... wit' Scott. Suddenly, the hair at the back of his neck grew rigid and goose flesh appeared all over his body. He was no longer alone and it wasn't Scott who had joined him. "Why are you here?" He didn't want to turn around, look his demon in the eyes.

 

"You're troubled."

 

Remy shivered violently, realizing that postponing the confrontation wouldn't work. He slowly turned around and flinched, looking into Jean-Luc's eyes. But this wasn't his father; he had learned to see through the disguise. "What do you want, Sinister?" He couldn't help remember being slashed open by Creed in the tunnels. Sinister had lied to him, had manipulated him and the Morlocks had died because he had been stupid enough to work for Sinister. If only his powers hadn't gone berserk! Why had he made so many mistakes in the past?

 

"You do know that your mind is wide open?" Sinister, who had once more taken Jean-Luc's guise, studied his son. Remy seemed worried, melancholy, even depressed.

 

"Merde!" No, he didn't know that he had been broadcasting. Gathering his courage, he finally looked Sinister in the eyes and repeated his earlier question. "What do you want from me, Sinister? Why can' you leave me 'lone or do you need my DNA 'gain, is dat it?" His tone was bitter, flavored with a hint of fear. Sinister was stronger than he was and could easily overpower him. Should he try to wake Scott? Would Scott hear his telepathic call?

 

"What I want?" Sinister observed him, thoughtfully. "The question is what you want."

 

Remy flinched, staring into Jean-Luc's eyes again. "Stop it! You ain' Jean-Luc! I know betta now." But he didn't want Sinister to morph back to his normal shape either. Confused, he averted his eyes, backing away from Sinister.

 

Sinister considered his son's words and used his morphing powers to change the color of his eyes.

 

Shivers ran down Remy's spin, as Jean-Luc's eyes turned red. A red diamond also appeared on the other man's brow, finally revealing his identity. It constantly reminded him of the fact that he was talking to Sinister. "Go 'way..."

 

"I can't do that... yet." Sinister cocked his head, frustrated because Remy had re-erected his shields. Now his son's thoughts were hidden from him. "Why are you this troubled?"

 

"Why do you wanna know? So you can use me 'gain? I won' fall for your lies ever 'gain!" Remy was tempted to walk away, but wasn't sure Sinister would let him so he simply stared at the grass. "Didn' you do 'nough damage yet?"

 

Sinister actually sighed. "Remy..."

 

Don' pretend you care 'cause you don'!

 

Remy's thoughts invaded his mind and he heard the pain and anger in the words. "Remy..."

 

"Don'! Don' say my name! Jus' go 'way!" This man had never wanted to be his father, had used his DNA for his research. "You ruined my life once, I ain' gonna let you do dat 'gain!"

 

But Sinister wasn't prepared to back down this easily. "I was worried when you were possessed by Creed. I sat with you and I helped Xavier reverse the process." Why was it suddenly so important to him that Remy believed him? He had never really cared about his son, but lately, things had changed. He couldn't even blame the empathy anymore, knowing his paternal instincts were a separate matter. Remy's empathy wasn't affecting him right now and he still felt worried for his son. What had the empathy set in motion? "I didn't want you to find out the truth. I disguised myself as Jean-Luc because I know you trust him unconditionally and that was what we needed to reverse the process, your trust."

 

Remy remained silent, listening. Sinister's shields were too tight to probe and he felt blind. He only had Sinister's words to base his decisions on.

 

Sinister's red eyes burned as he addressed his son. "It's true that I only saw you as a source for DNA material for some time... but then things changed."

 

"When?" Remy looked Sinister in the eyes, trying to make sense of what was going on. Sinister could have hurt him, abducted him, killed him, but instead of doing that, Sinister was talking to him. How bizarre could things get?

 

"It started in Antarctica... I began to feel protective of you. Do you remember that Creed assaulted you?"

 

"And you defended me... told him off." Yeah, he clearly remembered that incident.

 

"That was when it started." Sinister carefully considered his next words, wondering why he was making himself this vulnerable. This wasn't like him! It's tied in with Remy. Something has set this off and I can't help wanting to protect him. "Then you got into trouble again when you absorbed Scott's depression. Xavier contacted me and..."

 

"What? De professor did what?" Startled, Remy took another step away from Sinister.

 

"Xavier figured that our bond would allow me to connect with you. You shut out the others and... something compelled me to try."

 

Remy shook his head. "You're playin' games... you always played games, figurin' out ways to hurt me... Why do you hate me dis much? What did I ever do to you? I was only a baby when..." Why was I born? Nobody wanted me... you even killed my mother.

 

Sinister received the accusation and couldn't deny it. "I killed her... yes."

 

But the past was the past and he couldn't change it. It was better to focus on the present. "What do you want from me now? Why are you here?"

 

Remy failed to shield his fear and Sinister realized that Remy expected to be hurt again, in whatever way. "Why don't you tell me what happened after I left?"

 

Remy shook his head. "You didn' expect Jean-Luc to call, did you? Why? Why pretend bein' Jean-Luc? Why pretend you wanna help me? What's de price? Rien comes for free in life. I learned dat lesson well!" His tone had turned self-accusatory and bitter. "Learned it de hard way!"

 

Sinister moved fast and covered the distance between them in mere seconds. Without giving Remy the time or the chance to retreat, he took hold of his son's right arm and held him in place. "You're going to listen to me!"

 

"Or what? You're gonna call Creed to slash me open 'gain? Or do it yourself dis time?" Remy felt emotionally exhausted and didn't know how to deal with the situation. "I feel like dere's no one I can trust... expect Scott, and you... you... look like poppa and..."

 

"Remy, I'm new at this as well. I don't know how to be a father!" Well, actually I do, but... my firstborn died and it's been so long since I felt this way!

 

"You never were my fat'er and you'll never be! You're... you're everythin' I hate!" Remy tried to free himself of Sinister's hold, but failed. He even considered charging something to break loose, but couldn't reach anything.

 

"Yes, I guess it's too late for me to be a father now, but... what are you doing out here in the dead of night? Why are you broadcasting like this?" He doubted another telepath could receive Remy's thoughts, but he could, thanks to the connection between them. Even when Remy wasn't close he always felt his son's presence at the edges of his mind.

 

Remy finally caved in. He still didn't believe Sinister cared, but fleeing wasn't an option either. Sinister would never let him go. "Feelin' guilty..."

 

"What for?" Sinister sensed the surrender, but didn't let go and tightly held on to Remy's arm. He still had a hard time dealing with his newly found protective feelings where Remy was concerned, but something urged him to do his best and to make Remy understand that he was serious.

 

"Scott wants chil'ren."

 

Puzzled, Sinister arched an eyebrow. That wasn't what he had been expecting.

 

"And I... I can'... bein' an homme. Mebbe I should end our relationship... den he can meet a nice femme and have chil'ren wit' her." Remy couldn't believe he was confiding in his arch enemy, but it had something to do with the trust and true concern Sinister radiated; It's probably fake... he don' care... I 'ways wanted to find my real parents, and den I find out that my fat'er killed my mot'er and is de scientist from hell! 

 

What child didn't want to be loved by his parents? Jean-Luc and Mattie had filled that void in his life, but only because the Patriarch had felt guilty for stealing him in the first place.

 

Sinister still had a tight hold on his son's arm and tried to catch Remy's elusive gaze. "Remy, I'm a scientist... a male pregnancy isn't impossible. Of course there are risks involved, but I could help you... if you really want to do this."

 

"Oh non!" Remy finally managed to shake off Sinister's hold and immediately backed away from the other man. "I ain' makin' a pact wit' you! I did dat once 'fore 'cause my powers were out of control and it got de Morlocks killed!" His heart had throbbed loudly when Sinister had assured him that a male pregnancy was possible, but Sinister was only playing him. He couldn't take the bait!

 

Feeling the distrust, hate and hope in Remy's mind, Sinister backed off. "Why don't you think it over? You can discuss it with Scott if that makes you more comfortable."

 

"Forget 'bout it! Forget I ever mentioned it. If I had dat baby, you'd want it for your experiments and no one should have to suffer t'rough dat! You 'ways wanted Scott's DNA, Jean's and mine and you ain' gettin' more of it! If I had a chil' wit' Scott you would take it 'way from us and don' you dare deny it!" Remy had grown deadly pale and wondered if he would make it back to the cabin alive.

 

That didn't even cross my mind! Sinister shook his head, sending his thoughts into his son's mind. Yes, I understand that you think like that and if we'd had this conversation years ago, it might have been the truth. But things have changed. You're my son. I feel like I have a second chance in life. My firstborn never reached your age, Remy, and God damned me for trying to revive them... It was one of the things that made me turn to Apocalypse for support. He gave me my armor, my powers and supplied me with the alien knowledge I needed for my research. I didn't care about losing my feelings back then and I never realized what I had given up until I started to feel again, thanks to you.

 

Remy was startled, receiving Sinister's thoughts. He had never expected the other man to open up to him and he still wasn't sure why Sinister was trying to convince him. Sinister always had a hidden agenda. He just had to find out what the scientist was after this time. Unwilling to answer telepathically, he spoke aloud. "I don' believe you. I'm goin' back to de cabin now and you'd betta leave me 'lone in de future." Sinister would now show his true colors by stopping him from returning to Scott. He turned his back to Sinister and began walking away from the other man, staring at the cabin. Would he reach it? Would he ever see Scott again? Or would he find himself in Sinister's lab when he regained consciousness?

 

Sinister felt a stabbing sensation where his heart used to be. He had never thought Remy's rejection would hurt so much, but he couldn't really blame his son. In the past, he had manipulated and hurt Remy; it was only normal for the Cajun to react this way. His only chance was to persevere and to show Remy that he was serious. It might take him a lifetime.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Why can' we stay at de boathouse?" Remy didn't want to stay at the mansion and convincing Scott that they should stay at the boathouse hadn't worked. Following Scott inside, he felt Rogue's presence. She quickly dashed into the living room, avoiding him.

 

Scott had noticed her actions as well and placed his hand at the small of Remy's back, trying to reassure his lover. "I'm team leader, Remy. I have to be here in case of an emergency." Giving up leadership had never been this tempting before and he would probably hand over command if Remy asked him to, but the Cajun would never pressure him into doing that.

 

"She doesn' want me here," Remy whispered, miserably. He wasn't only receiving Rogue's thoughts, Storm's were invading his mind as well. She walked down the corridor, nodded her head in passing and then left again. "Dey don' want me here."

 

Scott sighed and led Remy to his room. They would pack his stuff and settle down in Remy's room.

 

"Hey, you're back!" Bobby smiled, and walked over to them. "Need any help?" Scott was packing and it didn't take him long to figure out that his friend was moving his stuff to Remy's room. He was happy that things were working out for them. "It's been boring without you guys around!"

 

Remy arched an eyebrow, finding that Scott was also packing a framed picture of Jean, Nate and Rachel. It was the only picture around that featured them as a family. Saddened, he realized that it was a manipulated picture. Scott had never had his family close and complete. Wish I could give you dat, a family, mais... Sinister had offered to help him, but he didn't trust the scientist. Sinister would keep their baby for his experiments. One way or the other, they had to find a way to live with that void in their lives.

 

"Let's do this." Scott picked up two piles of clothes and deposited them in Remy's arms. "Do you have enough space in your closet?"

 

"Sure, cher. I'll make space." Remy smiled, momentarily pushing his worried thoughts in to the back of his mind.

 

"Bobby, you can carry these..." Scott dropped more clothes into Bobby's arms. "Get moving."

 

"You're a slave driver, Slim!" Bobby protested, but started walking nonetheless. "Hey, Remy, Warren's here as well. He's been helping Hank with his research." Warren had changed these last few weeks and it was for the better. "Betsy's on the reserve list right now and no longer staying at the mansion." Bobby figured he should update Remy. "So Slim is moving in with you?"

 

"Oui..." Remy opened the door to his room and cringed at the mess he had left behind. He hadn't bothered to clean up before moving into the boathouse. "Drop everyt'in' on de chair, Bobby. I need to clean up first."

 

Bobby opened the curtains and Remy hissed softly as the bright sunlight hit his sensitive eyes. "Dere's a reason why I keep dem closed!"

 

"You're grumpy today." Bobby leaned against the wall and watched Remy put everything into its rightful place. He wanted to help, but had no idea where everything went. He would only create a bigger mess.

 

Going through the pile of Scott's clothes, he encountered the manipulated picture again and froze. He hoped that Scott wouldn't want it on the nightstand. He loved Jean, would always cherish her memory, but she was also competition and how could he compete with a ghost?

 

"It's sad really... Scott's a great parent, but he never got the chance to raise his kids. Rachel was already an adult when he met her and he never got to know Nate that well."

 

Bobby's words drove a knife through his heart. What if I make a pact wit' de devil and outsmart him? I could play Sinister like he played me. Non, I can' do dat. Sinister would win in de end. I'm only foolin' myself. I can' outsmart him, mais... Scott wants dis so bad and... I wanna give dis to him.

 

"Remy? What's going on?" He had been talking to Remy, but the Cajun wasn't responding,. The distant expression in Remy's eyes had him worried. "Was it something I said?"

 

"Non," Remy lied and began putting Scott's clothes away. "It's jus'... A lot has happened lately and I'm still tryin' to accept dat."

 

"I was scared when Creed had that hold on you. You attacked us. Scott and your father were so worried and they never left your side. We even had to force them to rest and eat occasionally. It surprised the hell out of me when Scott tried to get through to you by kissing you. I never suspected he liked men in that way." And he should have known, being gay himself. Seeing the discomfort in Remy's eyes, he switched topics again. "Warren, Hank and I are going to play some pool later... Maybe Scott and you will join us?"

 

"Mebbe," Remy said evasively. "Bobby, would you..."

 

"Leave you alone? Yeah, I guess you have a lot to do. Call me if you need any help!" Bobby's smile was partly faked, seeing the struggle in Remy's eyes. What was haunting the Cajun?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Remy? Don't take too long? I want to get some decent sleep tonight... Argh, why did I schedule a training session at seven in the morning?" Scott groaned, trying to lift Remy's dark mood. His lover had been brooding since they had returned to the mansion. At first he had blamed Storm and Rogue, because they were still avoiding Remy and their thoughts and emotions must be hurting the empath, but now he had the feeling that it was something that he had done. But he had no idea what he had done to upset the Cajun.

 

Remy stood in the doorway and was about to leave his room. Scott had already settled down in his bed, tucked beneath the comforter and he really wanted to join his lover, but he had to talk to Henri first. "I'll be back ASAP," he promised. "Go to sleep, cher." The confused expression on Scott's face warned him. "I'm just gonna get some fresh air..."

 

Scott allowed the lie, feeling Remy's restlessness in his mind. He doubted Remy fully realized that lying wasn't an option anymore. "Okay," he mumbled in the end, closing his eyes and trying to appear sleepy. Remy closed the door behind him and Scott was tempted to follow his lover to find out what Remy was hiding, but that implied he didn't fully trust Remy. Eventually, he decided to wait for his lover's return and if Remy was still restless then, he would address this issue.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Henri? Got a moment to talk?" Remy hesitated to enter the lab without permission; he didn't want to disturb precious research.

 

Hank looked up from his files, smiled and nodded his head invitingly. "Of course you can come inside. Have a seat, Remy. Would you like some coffee or tea?"

 

"Non, t'anks, I jus' wanna ask you somet'in'." Remy sat down opposite the Beast and averted his eyes. Confiding in Hank was a big step, and it scared him.

 

"What would you like to know?" Hank sipped his Earl Grey and waited for Remy to continue.

 

"Male pregnancy... is it possible?" Remy quickly looked up and captured Hank's gaze. Seeing the surprise in the other man's eyes, he shivered.

 

"And you want to know because...?"

 

"Scott wants chil'ren..." Remy bit his bottom lip.

 

"I never expected that question," Hank admitted, considering their subject matter. "To my knowledge it hasn't been done before. Well, there were experiments, but the fetus had to be aborted in all cases in the first four months. The male body isn't equipped to carry a child. Giving birth presents another problem. The child could only be born when the surgeon performs a caesarian section. There are too many risks involved."

 

Remy sighed, feeling disappointed. "So it's impossible?"

 

"I'm afraid so," Hank admitted. "Remy, did you discuss this with Scott?"

 

"Non." Remy felt shy all of a sudden. "Mais he told me he wanted chil'ren..."

 

"And he looks to you to give birth to them?" Hank frowned.

 

"He didn' say dat, mais... mebbe dis is all wrong..."

 

"What's wrong?" Growing worried, Hank leaned forward in his chair.

 

"Mebbe I should end dis relationship so he can date a femme. Dat way he can have chil'ren. I can' give him what he wants."

 

Hank proceeded cautiously. "I suggest you talk to Scott about your feelings. Don't shut him out, Remy. Scott won't see it the way you do. He's happy with you and if you really want children, I'm sure Scott wouldn't mind adopting them."

 

Remy rose to his feet. He considered this conversation over with now that Hank couldn't help him. "T'anks for your time, Henri. Won' bot'er you 'gain."

 

"Remy, it's not a bother. We all need someone to talk to about our most private problems."

 

"Merci." Remy walked to the doorway and stepped into the corridor. Henri can' help me... Sinister can...

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Remy softly closed the door behind him, but one mental sweep told him that Scott was still awake, merde!

 

"Remy, come to bed? I don't want to spend my first night alone in here." Scott switched on the Jugendstill lamp on the nightstand. He had to admit that Remy had an excellent taste when it came to decorating his room.

 

Remy remained quiet, but took off his clothes. Naked, he slipped between the covers. Facing Scott, he allowed the other man to cover him with the comforter.

 

"Huh, you're cold, Remy. Come here." Scott pulled his lover close and used his own body heat to warm him. "Where have you been?" Remy had been away for nearly an hour.

 

"Jus' went for a walk, cher." He hoped that Scott wouldn't pressure him, but his lover's next words crushed that hope.

 

"Remy, you do realize that your empathy works both ways? I know you're lying. I don't know what you've been up to, but it wasn't just taking a walk." Scott held his breath as Remy tensed in his arms.

 

"Non, didn' realize dat..." Remy licked his lips, feeling guilty for lying to Scott in the first place. "Talked to Henri."

 

"Why? Aren't you feeling well? Are you hurting or...?" Concerned, Scott quickly checked on his lover, but couldn't find any injuries and Remy wasn't having a fever either.

 

"Jus' needed to talk to him, please, cher... let it be."

 

The pleading tone convinced Scott that this wasn't the right time to address this. "You'll tell me when you feel up to it?"

 

Remy nodded his head against Scott's shoulder. "I will."

 

"Okay..." Scott gave in, but reluctantly. His fingers roamed Remy's back, caressing the cold skin.

 

"Cher, I don' t'ink... I ain'..."

 

"I'm not thinking about sex," Scott chided his lover gently. He knew that Remy wasn't in the mood to make love; the link told him so. "But I can still touch and hold you, can't I?" Please say I can, Remy, because I need you close.

 

Remy received Scott's thoughts and nodded his head. "Mais oui, you can touch and hold me. It'll take me some time to get used to dis... knowin' you're in my head, knowin' what I want and don' want."

 

Scott gently brushed Remy's lips, succeeding in shutting him up. You know what your problem is? You worry too much, Remy. I love you...

 

Je t'aime... Remy confirmed. Rolling onto his other side, he encouraged Scott to spoon closely behind him.

 

"Stop wiggling..." Scott chuckled as Remy ground his ass against his groin. "You're making me hard..."

 

Remy smiled against the pillow. "Don' mind fallin' asleep like dat..." But his mood darkened, seeing the framed picture of Scott and his family in a distant corner of his room, almost hidden by his books and he was once more reminded of Scott's desire to have children.

 

"Try to get some sleep, darling. We got an early training session. Close your eyes and go to sleep." Remy's mood had darkened for no apparent reason and that worried Scott.

 

Remy closed his eyes, shutting the framed picture from his mind. Mebbe I need to talk to Sinister 'gain, mais Scott can' find out. He'd never want a chil' Sinister helped create. I got to keep dis a secret. A part of him couldn't believe he was actually considering asking Sinister for help, but what options did he have?

 

None.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sinister was surprised when Remy hesitantly called out to him. He hadn't expected his son to contact him this quickly. Abandoning his research for now, he opened a tesseract and took on Jean-Luc's appearance, but this time his eyes remained red and the diamond stayed on his brow. For some time now he had wondered in what appearance he should present himself to his son, but so far all he had come up with was Jean-Luc's form. His usual appearance upset Remy and reminded his son of the time when he had manipulated him.

 

After stepping into the tesseract he used his powers to locate his son. Finding Remy alone, he opened another tesseract and stepped onto the grass. They were no longer on the mansion's premises, just outside the gates and as he looked into his son's eyes, he found them dull and haunted. He had to stop himself from reaching out to Remy and fold an arm around him. This reaction was so unlike him that it actually shocked him. When he had still been Nathaniel Essex, he had loved his wife and son, but Adam had died and his wife... No, he stopped himself, unwilling to relive the pain that had consumed him back then. Making a pact with Apocalypse had been his way to deal with the pain. Apocalypse had taken the pain away, but with it he had also taken the last bit of his humanity. And Remy had given it back to him. Unintended, he compared Remy to Adam, realized what he was doing and stopped. Adam had died as a child and he had no way of knowing what kind of man Adam would have become. But Remy was here, alive and healthy and for some reason his son had initiated this contact. "Remy?"

 

Remy flinched, hearing his name. What had possessed him to make contact with Sinister? The scientist had used him before and wouldn't hesitate to use him again. But Sinister was his only chance! "Is your offer still valid?"

 

Sinister arched an eyebrow, momentarily confused. "What offer?"

 

Maybe he should reconsider and hurry back to the mansion. It wasn't too late to stop this. "De male pregnancy t'ing."

 

Sinister watched his son closely and saw the discomfort in the red on black eyes, his legacy. Remy's shields weren't at maximum and he felt his son's fear of being manipulated again, being lured into a trap. This was his chance to show Remy that he was sincere, that he had changed and could be trusted. "You really want to go through with this?"

 

"Oui, havin' a chil' means a lot to Scott and I love him too much to deny him." Remy peeked at Sinister's eyes, but they were impossible to read. It still took a lot of getting used to, seeing Sinister's red eyes and the diamond on Jean-Luc's brow.

 

Sinister wanted to talk this over in depth. "We should return to my laboratory, where I can show you the procedure. It involves a number of risks you should be aware of. Also, I need to do a physical exam on you to determine your present condition."

 

Getting cold feet, Remy backed away from Sinister. "Ain' goin' back to your lab!" Once he was in Sinister's lab, he would be at the scientist's mercy!

 

Sinister stared into Remy's eyes. "Listen to me, Remy. If you really want to do this you'll have to trust me. You're putting yourself at great risk by getting pregnant. I'll need to monitor you closely and you would have to see me every fourteen days so I can check on the progress you're making. If you can't do that, don't follow up on the idea. It could get you killed."

 

"I don' trust you..." Remy took another step away from Sinister. "You hurt me before... you 'ways betray me."

 

"Things have changed," Sinister started, reassuringly. "I have changed. You're an empath, Remy. Don't you feel it?"

 

"I can'... your shields are too strong. I can' tell what you're feelin'."

 

Sinister hadn't realized Remy couldn't sense his feelings. He had assumed their connection worked both ways. "Then I'll lower my shields."

 

Remy's breath caught. "I can' believe you said dat!" What game was Sinister playing this time?

 

Sinister nodded his head and lowered his shields to let Remy in. "See for yourself. I'll allow you to probe my feelings and I'll even open part of my memories for you. You'll be able to see for yourself that I changed and what brought on the change. Do you accept?"

 

Remy wasn't sure he should venture into Sinister's mind. It could be a trap!

 

"There's only one way to find out if I'm being sincere." Sinister raised his right hand and offered it to his son, trying to establish some physical contact.

 

Remy's hand trembled as he placed it in Sinister's, realizing he didn't really have a choice. As they made contact, the world around him faded to black.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Nathaniel! Adam is dead! You have to accept that. You can't go against God's wish. He's dead. I want him back as well, but this goes against Nature. You can't do this, please, Nathaniel!"

 

"Be quiet, woman!" Enraged, Nathaniel Essex glared at his wife, Rebecca. "Our son just died! Adam was much too young to die; he was only a child! My research can give him back his life!" He cradled Adam's lifeless body in his arms. The doctors had been unable to save Adam and he had arrived too late, finding Adam dead. Rebecca was crying her eyes out, shaking, and barely keeping herself together. He had to be strong for both of them. "I'm taking him with me to my laboratory. Don't try to stop me!"

 

Determinedly, he descended the stairs to the basement and entered his laboratory. Many colleagues envied him because of his modern equipment and some thought he was collaborating with the devil. Their opinion mattered little to him. His knowledge, his research, would give Adam life. His son would live again and become a man, helping him unravel life's mysteries.

 

He placed Adam on an exam table and examined his son. This had to work! Frantically, he searched his desk for the formula, which he had developed these last few months. It was supposed to stimulate the heart and brains, bringing new life to Adam's dead body. He sat down on the exam table, rested his son's body against his, and parted the stiff lips. Slowly, he let a few drops of the elixir drip onto Adam's tongue. He believed in his research, this would work! His son wasn't supposed to die at this early age!

 

"Adam? Breathe for me... open your eyes. Breathe for your father... come back to us. Your mother wants you back in her arms!" He monitored his son closely and felt ecstatic when Adam shivered, drawing in oxygen. "Yes, son, you're doing excellently."

 

Adam shuddered. His eyes flashed open and he released one strangled scream. His eyes stared accusingly at his father who had brought him back from the dead. Tremors racked his body as his heart tried to pump cold blood through his veins.

 

"No!" Nathaniel screamed in pain as Adam's heart stopped beating once more. The young boy collapsed against him and he released another angry scream. "You can't take him away from me! You can't!" He was angry at creation, at God, the Devil; he blamed everyone and everything for taking his son away from him. His formula had only worked for a few seconds, and Adam had died a second time, this time in his arms. "No! No..." His screams weakened and became sobs. He should be upstairs, comforting Rebecca, but he couldn't pull away from his firstborn. Adam had been the light of his life.

 

"You don't possess the necessary knowledge to bring him back."

 

Startled, Nathaniel laid down his son and jumped to his feet. An abomination had appeared in his laboratory and he stared at the creature, whose skin was metallic. He had never seen anything like it before and shivered, staring into the cold eyes. "What are you? Leave me!"

 

"My name's Apocalypse and I can help you... In return you'll help me."

 

"Apocalypse?" Nathaniel's skin turned to gooseflesh in the presence of evil. "I won't do business with you. You're a demon!"

 

"A demon? No, I'm a mutant like you."

 

"A mutant?" Nathaniel shielded Adam's body from Apocalypse's view. He didn't know how this creature had entered his laboratory, but he wasn't taking any risks.

 

Apocalypse played his trump. "You know what other people think... what they feel. That makes you a mutant. Join me, join my cause and I'll give you power you can only dream of. You'll hold life and death in the palm of your hand. I need a man with your ambition, with your intelligence and slyness. Don't throw it all away for these puny humans. You may be a doctor, but both of us know you could be so much more!"

 

Shocked, Nathaniel stared at the incarnation of evil. "You're the devil, tempting me so that I will forsake my faith."

 

"What faith? Your precious God just took away your son and you still believe in Him? I'm more powerful than He is! I can give you the power over life and death!"

 

Nathaniel stared at his son's corpse. This creature was right. His God had forsaken him; had taken away his only son.

 

"What do you have to lose?" Apocalypse took one step closer to Nathaniel. "Accept my offer and you can stop death in its tracks. I'll fill your mind with knowledge you only dreamt of! I know the secrets of the universe. Don't be a fool, accept my offer." Apocalypse extended his hand. "Accept my offer, Essex."

 

Nathaniel rocked Adam one last time, making his decision. Apocalypse was right. God had forsaken him and why should he believe in such a cruel god? Apocalypse offered him knowledge, the power to stop death! And wasn't that what he had always wanted? To conquer death?

 

Nathaniel's hand trembled as he placed it in Apocalypse's, realizing he didn't really have a choice. As they made contact, the world around him faded to black.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Oh, mon Dieu, why did you do it? I understand your pain, I felt it, mais to make a pact wit' him? Didn' you know what...

 

No, Remy, I didn't know what I was getting myself in to. I accepted his offer because I wanted to revive Adam. I didn't know he was playing with me...

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Why? What are you doing to me?" Nathaniel screamed as a sharp pain crawled across his skin. It burned infernally and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Apocalypse's powers flowed around him, cocooned him and his agony grew worse. His skin! His skin was burning, leaving metal in its place. Shocked, he stared at Apocalypse, who was laughing loudly. "Stop it!"

 

"No, you accepted my offer and this is the price you have to pay for your knowledge. I can't take any risks."

 

Nathaniel whimpered as the metal stretched out over his body, covering every inch of skin, replacing it. His eyes burned as well and he tried to close them, but Apocalypse yanked him back to his feet.

 

"Look at your reflection!" Apocalypse pushed him closer to a mirror, holding his prey in place. "Look!"

 

Shaking, he stared at his reflection. His eyes had turned red and a red diamond had appeared on his brow. "What did you do to me?"

 

"We're not finished yet!" Apocalypse grinned and raised his right hand.

 

Nathaniel yelped as Apocalypse's fingers settled on his head, reaching inside his mind, his soul, ripping it apart. "No..."

 

"I can't allow you to betray me. Your feelings make you unreliable... I'll take them away... You won't be an empath any longer... I'll leave your telepathy intact..."

Apocalypse probed Essex's mind deeper, until he found what he was looking for, then brutally tore his mind apart. Nathaniel screamed, collapsed on the floor and remained motionless. Satisfied, Apocalypse waited for his new ally to rise to his feet. The transformation was complete. While ripping the empathy from Essex's mind he had filled the scientist's mind with unspeakable knowledge. "Rise..."

 

Adroitly, he rose from the floor, pushing himself to his feet. Stretching his body, he tasted the power and his eyes glowed intensely, mentally reviewing all the knowledge he had gained. Respectfully, he bowed his head. "Master..."

 

Pleased, Apocalypse studied him. "You need a new name... You're no longer Nathaniel Essex... You're Mister Sinister..."

 

"Yes, Sinister..."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The next decades I spent plotting against Apocalypse, trying to free myself of his reign... It's the strangest thing... was I really an empath? Why didn't I remember that?

 

Mebbe Apocalypse erased dat particular memory?

 

That's possible. Remy, have you seen enough? I lost Adam and later I lost Rebecca. You're my second chance. I'm serious when I say that I want to help you.

 

I've seen everyt'in' t'rough your eyes, mais I still remember de Massacre...

 

Can you give me this one chance, Remy? I won't let you down.

 

I don' know...

 

Please?

 

Mebbe... now take us back to de present?

 

Of course.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Remy glanced at Essex, standing opposite him. "Would you... would you... You ain' Jean-Luc and I don' wanna see you as Sinister eit'er. Could you, would you... show yourself as Nat'aniel Essex?" It was his way of reaching out to the other man. He didn't get a verbal answer, but the form in front of him faded, then grew solid again. Cocking his head, he studied Nathaniel Essex. "Dis is you?"

 

"Yes, this is who I used to be, before I made my unholy pact with Apocalypse."

 

Remy suddenly realized that their hands were still clasped. I've got to trust my instincts, even if dey're misguidin' me.

 

Do you trust me enough to do this for you? I'd like to have a grandchild...

 

Remy hesitated, but then set aside his doubt and fear. "Oui, I trust you..." He might get hurt in the end, but at least he was making this decision of his own free will.

 

"Then we'll continue this at my lab." He opened a tesseract and waited for Remy to make up his mind.

 

Remy nodded his head firmly and followed his father into the tesseract.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Remy almost regretted trusting Essex when he found himself at his father's laboratory. It had only taken a few selected memories for him to change his mind and here he was, in the lion's den. One of the things that had made him decide to trust Essex was the fact that the other man had been an empath before Apocalypse had gotten his hands on him. It had strengthened their fragile bond and he hoped his father understood how hard it was to trust again.

 

Sinister, still in the guise of Nathaniel Essex, walked toward the exam table. "Please sit down," he said, pointing at the exam table. "I need to run some tests on you before I can tell how successful a male pregnancy will be. I also want to stress the risks you're running when you proceed with this."

 

In spite of everything, Remy smiled. Essex seemed determined to explain these risks to him. Did his father really care about him? Until a few days ago he would have thought it impossible. Suddenly, his smile died. A terrible pain sliced his mind in two and he clutched his head between his hands. "What's dat?" His voice shook with pain and he fortified his defenses. Slowly, the pain faded.

 

"It's nothing," Essex said, dismissing it. "Don't pay it any attention. Now lie down and try to relax."

 

Remy flinched as Essex attached several electrodes to his brow.

 

"Remove your shirt."

 

His hands trembled, obeying that order, but he unbuttoned his shirt. Essex proceeded to attach more electrodes to his chest.

 

"You must realize that every pregnancy, male or female, carries great risks. When the time of birth comes I'll have to perform a Caesarian section

and that brings with it its own risks."

 

"What do I do?" He was determined to see this through and held still when Essex took several blood samples.

 

"You won't notice any changes the first two weeks, then morning sickness might hit. Expect all normal conditions that accompany pregnancy."

 

"Like what?"

 

"Like food cravings, mood swings and nausea. You'll need to rest regularly and I'll prescribe you hormone pills, which will aid the fetus' development." Essex wiped away the few droplets of blood on Remy's arm after taking a blood sample and checked the monitor. "You're in a good shape..."

 

"How will you do it? Do you need anyt'in'? My DNA or...?" Remy grew silent, suddenly realizing what he was doing. Could he trust Essex? Could he?

 

Essex looked at him thoughtfully. Was his old empathy stirring? Impossible. Apocalypse had ripped his empathy from him, but... he certainly felt something. "I have everything I need."

 

"So when are you gonna do it? Now?" Remy wasn't sure he wanted to do this right now. Maybe he needed to think everything over and then reach a well-balanced decision, but would Essex give him that time?

 

Essex eyed his son closely. "Not now. I want you to think this over very carefully. This is an important decision. Talk it over with Scott. You don't have to mention me, but tell him what you want to do. You'll need his support if you're going to follow through and maybe... maybe Scott doesn't want you to risk your life to have his child. This involves two people, Remy."

 

Remy blinked his eyes. Did he really say dat? Mon Dieu, I can' tell Scott. Once Scott knows Henri doesn' t'ink it possible, he'll wanna know who's guidin' me and he won' want anyt'in' to do wit' me or de chile. His shields were still strong and Essex hadn't received those thoughts. "I'll t'ink 'bout it."

 

"Good. I need to study your DNA and Scott's to make sure the baby will be healthy." Essex removed the electrodes. Remy looked tired, exhausted.

 

Remy had momentarily dropped his shields and the agony assaulted him once more. Someone close was in a terrible pain. Following his instincts, he got up from the exam table and started for the corridor.

 

"Remy, where are you going?" Essex followed his son.

 

"Who's in pain?" Remy locked eyes with his father and flinched. Nathaniel Essex's eyes stared back at him, not Sinister's red ones. Maybe he should stop referring to him as Sinister and use Essex instead? Or would he be deluding himself?

 

Essex shrugged his shoulders, knowing whose pain Remy was picking up. "It's only Creed."

 

"Creed?" Shocked, Remy halted in his tracks. "Why is he hurtin'?" Suddenly, he felt less safe than he had felt a minute ago. Too vividly he remembered how he had felt when Creed's instincts had ruled him. "What's he doin' here?" Suspiciously, he looked about.

 

"He's my prisoner. You don't have to worry about your safety." Remy had started walking again, honing in on Creed's pain and he didn't have a choice but to follow Remy.

 

"Your prisoner?" Confused, Remy looked up, trying to make sense of this new information. "I t'ought he worked for you."

 

"He hurt you..."

 

The simple admission caused Remy's heart to skip a beat. Freezing in his tracks, he locked eyes with his father. "What?"

 

"He hurt you... I can't allow that. It's partly my fault that he managed to get hold of you. I should have dealt with him when he assaulted you here at my lab." He had only been just in time to stop Creed from molesting Remy.

 

Remy's eyes grew big. "I don' understand." He didn't. He really didn't understand. "Why is he in pain?"

 

Essex sighed, resigned. "Walk on." He opened the door to the storage facility where Creed's tank was situated. He guided Remy to the right tank and then watched his son's face.

 

"Mon Dieu..."

 

Electricity shook Creed's body and his face contorted in pain. Seeing that he had visitors, Creed placed his hands against the tank and pleadingly stared at them. He didn't expect any mercy from Sinister, but maybe LeBeau would help him. Another bolt of electricity shocked his body and he released a mute scream. Please, please help me... the pain... He had never begged before, but the pain...! The jolt almost killed him time and time again, and then his healing factor kicked in, making sure he survived the next jolt as well... endless torture.

 

"Please stop it... stop it... de pain..." Remy's watering eyes sought out his father's. "Please, dis is monstrous. I can understand dat you don' want him loose, mais you can' do dis..." Remy flinched every time Creed's body was subjected to another jolt. "Stop dis..."

 

I've grown soft... I can't deny him. How did this happen? Essex raised his hand and switched off the electricity. "Is this what you want? He deserves to suffer, you know."

 

Remy slowly shook his head. "No man deserves dis kinda pain, not even Creed."

 

Creed had listened to their exchange and couldn't believe LeBeau had chosen to help him. Had the torture really stopped? He couldn't remember a time when he had felt this grateful. Thanks...

 

Remy ignored Creed and looked at Essex. "Promise me you won' turn it on 'gain after I’ve left. You asked me to trust you... Prove to me dat you're serious."

 

Essex wondered about his eagerness to please his son. When had Remy become the most important person in his life? Was his empathy returning and if it was, how would Apocalypse react to that news? "I won't switch it on again."

 

"Merci..." Remy nervously licked his lips. "Merci... Essex?" He added the name hesitantly, unsure how Essex would react. To his surprise, the other man smiled.

 

"Essex... I'd prefer Nathan, that's how Rebecca used to call me... several lifetimes ago." Feeling melancholy, he realized what he had lost when he had turned his back on Rebecca.

 

"Nat'an... bien..." Remy smiled shyly. Had he really gained a father?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"What's going on? You've been preoccupied all day long." Concerned, Scott sat down beside his lover on the couch in the living room. They were alone in here, and he deemed it safe to discuss this matter right now instead of waiting until they had retreated to Remy's room for the night. He still wondered where Remy had gone most of the day. For some hours, Remy had disappeared from the face of the earth. None of the security cameras had been able to locate him. Remy had told him that he had gone for a walk, but Scott didn't buy it. "You're brooding."

 

"Jus' t'inking, cher," Remy said evasively. All day long he had been thinking about Essex's words. A male pregnancy was possible, but risky. He wish he could discuss this with Scott, but his lover would never agree to this as long as Sinister was involved. Non, not Sinister, Nat'an. I have to stop t'inkin' of him as Sinister. He changed...

 

"Remy? Can I ask you something personal?" Scott leaned in closer and manhandled Remy until his lover was lying down and Remy's head resting in his lap. Soothingly, he stroked the soft hair, instinctively feeling his lover's emotional turmoil.

 

"What do you wanna know?" Remy relaxed in spite of his problems. Scott's soothing caresses calmed him down.

 

"Why are you shielding your thoughts? I haven't been able to read your thoughts all day long. Is something wrong? Did I do something that upset you?" Scott held his breath in fearful anticipation. "I want this relationship to work. Please tell me if it's something I did."

 

Remy instantly felt guilty. "Sorry, cher. You didn' do anyt'ing wron'," he quickly assured his lover. "I was t'inking 'bout Sinister posin' as Jean-Luc and what to make of it. It's kinda... private." He hated feeding Scott white lies, but he needed the privacy right now.

 

"I guess that makes sense." Scott didn't feel convinced though. "Are you going to talk to Jean-Luc?"

 

"The next time he calls, oui. I asked him to gimme some time to t'ink."

 

"What will you do about Sinister?"

 

Remy tried hard not to flinch. "Avoid him?" Lying to Scott made him feel guilty. He wanted to confide in his lover, tell him that they were going to have a baby, but he couldn't. "I'm sorry I neglected you." Remy raised his hand and cupped the back of Scott's neck in his palm, slowly pushing his lover's lips closer to his. Claiming them, he tried to forget about Sinister, no Nathan, the pregnancy and Scott's desire to have children. He had to be more careful in the future; apparently Scott didn't like it when he hid his thoughts from his lover. Mais I made up my mind 'ready anyway... I wanna make Scott happy... I'm followin' t'rough. De next time Sini... Nat'an and I meet I'll tell him to proceed. I wanna have Scott's child... I really do.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"You discussed this with Scott?" Essex waited for Remy to lie down on the exam table and probed his son's troubled thoughts. It was a pity that Remy's shields were this strong; it almost felt like the young man was trying to hide something from him, but he didn't want to pressure Remy in to telling him what was wrong. He had to move slowly and carefully if he wanted to gain Remy's complete trust.

 

"Oui, and Scott agrees." Remy avoided his father's eyes. He still had to get used to seeing Essex instead of Sinister. The changed appearance did make things easier though.

 

Essex studied his son closely and his unease increased. Suddenly, he felt reluctant to follow through. "You did discuss this with Scott, didn't you?"

 

"Oui." It took every ounce of Remy's courage to look his father in the eyes. "I did."

 

Essex decided not to push. "I already told you that this involves surgery. The fetus will need space to develop and I have to create an artificial skin fold. I will do that after anaesthetizing you."

 

Remy gasped; he hadn't known he needed to be anaesthetized. "Can' I stay conscious?"

 

"I advice against it. Remy. Trust me on this."

 

We're back to de trust t'ing 'gain. Do I trust him? But he had made that decision when he had agreed to this. "Do it."

 

Essex nodded his head, but... " You and Scott discussed the risks involved? He knows this can kill you?"

 

Remy's eyes narrowed. "Jus' do it."

 

Essex was too eager to make everything up to Remy to question the emotional turmoil in his son's mind. Slowly, he placed the oxygen mask over Remy's mouth and nose, and within seconds the young man was asleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sleepily, Remy opened his eyes. His head felt heavy and he wanted to go back to sleep, but a voice was telling him to wake up. Unable to ignore the annoying voice, he tried to focus on his surroundings. At first, he didn't recognize the man standing at his bed, but suddenly he remembered that Sinister took on Essex's form whenever he was close. Thirsty, he licked his lips. "Sin..." Correcting himself, he said, "Nat'an?"

 

'Everything went perfectly," he assured Remy. "You're pregnant."

 

Remy blinked his eyes in disbelief. Automatically, his hand moved to his abdomen, looking for a change. But his abdomen was still flat and he didn't feel any different. He didn't know what he had expected, but this wasn't it... feeling normal. "Everyt'in' feels de same."

 

"Of course it does," Essex said, amused. "What did you expect? To be nine months pregnant upon waking up? You won't notice anything for another few weeks. Then you should prepare for food cravings, mood swings, headaches... everything that accompanies pregnancy." He helped Remy sit upright and watched as his son lifted his shirt to study his abdomen.

 

"I don' see a t'ing... did you really do it? I still feel de same."

"Trust me, you're pregnant." Essex even chuckled softly. Although he had offered to tell Remy about the procedure that would leave him pregnant, his son had refused to discuss it and he wasn't going to bring it up again. "You have to take good care of yourself for the next nine months." And Summers better keep you safe... "You'll check in with me every fourteen days. If something happens that worries you, contact me right away. We can't rule out a miscarriage, Remy."

 

Remy swallowed hard, only now realizing he was pregnant. How de hell am I gonna explain dis to Scott? I t'ought dat keepin' everyt'in' a secret was de best way to approach dis, mais what do I do when I start to show? I can' hide dis from Scott! What possessed me to do dis? He'll be mad as hell when he finds out I did dis behind his back. He'll be even more furious when he finds out 'bout Essex's involvement. I should have t'ought dis t'rough before takin' dis step, mais it's too late now. Dere's a new life inside of me.

 

"Remy?" Worried, Essex sought out his son's eyes. Damn those tight shields! He could probably force himself a way into Remy's mind, but his rediscovered conscience stopped him. He couldn't violate Remy's mind like that! "Do you want to rest a little longer? You still seem rather groggy."

 

"What's de time?" How much time had past since he had left Scott with some dumb and illogical excuse? Mon Dieu, Scott's gonna figure it out... He'll feel betrayed... Mebbe it's not too late yet to tell him what I've done, mais will he listen? Will he forgive me? Will I lose him?

 

Essex covered Remy with a blanket and encouraged his son to lie down again. "Surgery only took one hour."

 

Remy sighed, relieved. In that case he could rest a little longer. "Wake me in t'irty?"

 

Essex nodded his head; worried, but unable to pin down the source of his unease. Watching Remy sleep, he wished he could reveal himself to Scott and talk to his son's lover, but that wasn't an option right now. He had to trust Remy and hope that his son knew what he was doing.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Five weeks later

 

Scott watched his lover sleep and tried to label the worries that haunted him. Whenever Remy looked at him, the red on black eyes were hooded, hiding things from him. Lately, Remy was locking him out and shielding his thoughts. Something had come between them and he had to find out what it was before it tore them apart. Remy was too precious to lose and he couldn't envision a life without the Cajun.

 

Hey Remy, are you awake? He decided to approach his lover telepathically, trying to recapture their former closeness. Remy stirred, and encouraged, Scott caressed his lover's soft skin. Remy? We need to talk.

 

Remy finally opened his eyes and locked with Scott's. He had felt Scott's growing concern these last few weeks and he knew what to do to repair this situation, but he lacked the necessary courage. He was five weeks pregnant now and he felt the first stirrings of a new life inside him. He cherished that sensation and he didn't know how to tell Scott the truth. "What's wron', cher?" He chose to respond verbally, ducking the intimacy of telepathic speech.

 

Remy, why are you shutting me out? We aren't as close any more as we used to be. I miss that closeness.

 

Remy flinched, realizing Scott was going to push it this time. "Cher, please..." He never managed to end that sentence and quickly covered his mouth with his right hand. His stomach contracted and he gulped, fighting the urge to throw up.

 

"Remy?" Concerned, Scott rubbed his lover's back.

 

But the touch brought no relief and Remy jumped up from the bed and ran into the bathroom where he dropped to his knees. Holding onto the porcelain bowl, he emptied his stomach and suffered through an exhausting round of dry heaves. Mon Dieu, it hurts! His throat hurt, his stomach continued to convulse and cold sweat poured from his pores.

 

Remy, please tell me what's going on. You're scaring me!

 

I don' wanna scare you, cher... He felt miserable. Essex had warned him about the morning sickness, but he hadn't thought it would be this severe. How was he going to explain this to Scott?

 

Scott helped his lover to his feet and put some toothpaste onto Remy's toothbrush before handing it to the younger man. Here. you'll feel better after you got rid of that awful taste!

 

Merci. Remy brushed his teeth and rinsed with mouthwash. Would this happen every morning? He wasn't sure he could handle this. How did he get himself in these situations?

 

"Come on, let's get you back in to bed." Scott led Remy back to the bed and made sure his lover was resting comfortably. After tucking the comforter around Remy's form, he closely studied his lover. Something was wrong, very wrong.

 

"You scheduled a trainin' session dis mornin'." He wasn't sure he could participate, but he would try, for Scott.

 

"You're staying in bed, Remy, and I'll ask Hank to check on you. I want to make sure there's nothing seriously wrong with you." Remy started to protest, but Scott firmly shook his head. You're too important to me. Don't you dare say that nothing is wrong with you!

 

Remy stayed silent, safely nestled in a warm cocoon and he didn't feel like arguing. Mais Henri doesn' need to examine me, cher. It's probably jus' de stomach flu.

 

Remy, humor me. Even if this is the stomach flu, I want Hank to confirm it.

 

You worry too much, cher. It's rien...

 

Then let me worry, Remy...

 

Realizing that Scott wouldn't give in, Remy reluctantly nodded his head. He didn't know yet what he was going to tell Henri; the truth or white lies.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Remy? Can I come inside? Scott wants me to talk to you." Hank couldn't label his unease. When Scott had told him about Remy's nausea this morning he had been inclined to dismiss it as a bad reaction to something Remy had eaten the night before, but the unease had only increased during the day. So now he found himself knocking on Remy's door, hoping the Cajun would let him in.

 

"Henri? Is dat you? I'm bien..." Remy struggled into a sitting position. He had been peacefully asleep until Hank had woken him. Merde, he had hoped Scott wouldn't mention this morning's incident to Hank. Wishful t'inkin'!

 

"I'm coming inside," Hank announced and he opened the door to Remy's room.

 

"Merde!" Remy wondered about his game plan. It was best if he appeared fit and lying in bed wasn't helping. He was in the midst of getting to his feet when a large blue hand settled on his shoulder. Instinctively, he tightened his shields and avoided locking eyes with Hank. During these last few hours he had grown accustomed to the sensation of new life in his body.

 

"Remy?" Hank studied the Cajun, wondering why Remy wouldn't meet his eyes. "How are you feeling right now?"

 

"I'm bien," Remy repeated. He still refused to make eye contact, trying to figure out his next move. He wasn't ready yet to tell the truth and Scott deserved to be the first one to hear it. And den Scott can decide if he wants dis chile... if he wants de ot'ers to know. Tellin' Henri now ain' right.

 

"Scott said you're feeling nauseous."

 

"I did, mais not any more. Must be somet'in' I ate last night. Mebbe it's de stomach flu. On de news dey said dat it was goin' 'round." He forced himself to meet Hank's eyes while tightly locking his thoughts and feelings away. Although he desperately wanted to tell someone that a new life was blossoming inside him, he couldn't tell Hank.

 

"I would like to run some tests on you, Remy. Why don't you accompany me to the lab?"

 

"Non, don' t'ink so, Henri. I'm stayin' here, gonna ride it out until I feel betta."

 

"Remy..."

 

He heard the warning in Hank's voice, but Remy shook his head. "Non, Henri, I ain' gonna submit to your li'l tests. It's jus' de flu."

 

Hank sighed. "You're too stubborn for your own good." He hoped the Cajun wouldn't get worse, but if Remy did, Scott and he would drag Remy to the lab kicking and screaming if necessary.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Merci mon Dieu, for lettin' Scott have monitor duty in de mornin' dis week. Dat way he doesn' see me t'row up every mornin'. He was really lucky that Scott left the bed at five and the morning sickness never hit before nine. That gave him sufficient time to drag himself into the bathroom and empty his stomach. It was becoming a pattern now, waking up, throw up and then crawl into bed again, and the pattern had been repeating itself for the last five days. Two more days and Scott would find out that 'the stomach flu' had never gone away.

 

He had kept his appointment with Essex yesterday and his father had assured him that everything was perfectly normal, including the morning sickness, headaches and backaches. Fortunately, Essex had given him some pills that should deal with the nausea. The meds needed a few days to take effect, but then the morning sickness would hopefully be gone. Essex however, had also told him that he had to suffer through the little body aches and pains.

 

Curling onto his side, he wrapped his arms around his waist, subconsciously trying to protect the new life inside him. Essex hadn't told him the gender of the child and he didn't want to know. All life was precious to him, especially now that it was flourishing inside him.

 

Hank had left him alone and had stopped pushing him for tests. Remy usually managed to hide his nausea until he had reached a bathroom and Hank had no idea what was really going on.

 

"Li'l one, I'll keep you safe, I promise. I'll love you, be dere for you every step of de way." Something inside him stirred, as if responding to his promise, but that was impossible. It was way too early for the fetus to understand. He was imagining things, hoping the fetus was developing correctly. Essex had warned him that he might have a miscarriage, but he refused to consider that possibility. The child would be strong and healthy.

 

I've got to tell Scott de trut'. You can' see a t'ing yet, mais I'll start to show soon and den it'll be too late. I hate doin' dis to him, mais I can' stay on de active list. What if I hurt de li'l one durin' a fight? I have to consider de chile's needs first. Mais how do I tell him? How do I tell Scott? He'll turn away when he finds out 'bout Nat'an's involvement. Why did I do dis behind his back? Don' I ever learn? Keepin' secrets put me into danger time and time 'gain and now I'm doin' it 'gain!

 

I'll tell him tomorrow night. I'll make dinner at de boathouse where we can have some privacy. I'll tell him everyt'in' and den I'll see what happens next. I know he loves me, mais will he love our chile as well? Oui, he'll love de chile, mais he'll be mad at me for goin' to Essex to help me. He'll accept de chile... mais will he still want me? Mon Dieu, why did I do dis?

 

Hush, li'l one, Remy will take care of you... He dismissed the sensation that he wasn't alone. Somehow it felt like another presence was making itself comfortable in his mind. Can' be de chile... I'm only six weeks... can' be de chile.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Scott was feeling nervous. Remy had asked him to spend the night at the boathouse instead of the mansion and in his book, that meant trouble. During the last few days he had noticed that Remy was trying harder to recapture the former closeness between them, but something kept the Cajun back and he hoped that everything would come into the open. Remy probably didn't think he knew that his lover was still throwing up in the morning, but he knew what had happened when he entered the bathroom and found that Remy had cleaned it. He cleaned it to eradicate the evidence; that he threw up after I left for monitor duty. He had been hesitant to bring it up, because Remy didn't like being fussed over, but it greatly worried him. Then there were the headaches Remy was complaining about, which only added to his concern. Yes, they were going to discuss this tonight and he hoped Remy was ready to talk about it.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Salut, cher...

 

Scott smiled, pleasantly surprised that Remy was using telepathy to greet him. His lover was dressed in a warm woolen sweater, jeans and yet he still shivered.

 

Come inside, cher. Dinner's almost ready. He felt far more nervous than he wanted Scott to know. So much depended on their conversation tonight! Scott went into the kitchen and sat down at the kitchen table while Remy gave the Gumbo one more last stir. Hungry, cher?

 

Scott nodded his head. Remy had made Gumbo once or twice since they were together and he liked the dish. "So why did you want to meet me here?"

 

Remy placed the bowls on the kitchen table and sat down opposite Scott. Dis is it. Mon Dieu, I'm so nervous, mais I'm doin' de right t'ing. Dis is Scott's chile as well. He needs to know. In retrospect, I should never have done dis wit'out Scott's okay... He carefully shielded this thoughts; he didn't want Scott to find out accidentally.

 

"Remy, the Gumbo is excellent, but I don't think that's why you asked me to come here." He placed his utensils on the table and captured one of Remy's hands in his. Lately, his love and affection for the Cajun had grown to new levels. I didn't know it was possible to love you more, but I do. Now tell me what's worrying you.

 

Remy fidgeted with the fabric of his sweater. Scott gently squeezed his right hand and Remy sighed, placing his other hand on Scott's, confirming their connection. "I did somet'in' stupid, cher."

 

Scott's heart skipped a beat. Shit, what's this about? Remy... "What did you do?" He rubbed the knuckles of Remy's hand, trying to reassure his lover that they could deal with everything.

 

"Mon Dieu, it's harder dan I t'ought..." Remy licked his lips, averted his eyes and stared at their hands. "Do you remember talkin' 'bout havin' chil'ren?"

 

Scott nodded his head. Hank had hinted that Remy had asked him about the possibility of a male pregnancy, and Hank had also mentioned the disappointment in Remy's eyes when he had told him it was impossible. "Remy, yeah, it's true. I want children, but we can adopt. We're men, we can't get pregnant and that's one aspect of being in a gay relationship that I fully accept..."

 

"Mais I couldn' accept it..." Remy trembled, nervously. "I'm pregnant, cher."

 

"What?" Scott frowned. "What did you say?" Remy couldn't be saying what he thought he was saying!

 

"I'm carryin' our chile, cher..." Remy peeked at Scott's face. Reaching out empathically, he quickly retreated, feeling Scott's shock.

 

"You're serious, aren't you? My God, Remy, what did you do?" Scott stared at his lover in complete disbelief. Now certain things made sense. "That wasn't the stomach flu... It was morning sickness and the headaches... But I still don't understand. How can you be pregnant? It's impossible!"

 

"I had some help," Remy admitted in a tiny tone. Scott hadn't pushed him away yet and he was growing hopeful that his lover would accept this situation.

 

"Help? From Hank?"

 

"Non..." Remy cringed. He didn't want to tell Scott the truth, but he had no choice. "I wanted to make you happy, cher, and Henri told me a male pregnancy was impossible, so I turned to someone else..."

 

"Who?" Scott held his breath. Remy's tension was obvious and his lover seemed ready to bolt any moment now.

 

"I went to see... Essex." Remy whispered the words, freed his hand and wrapped his arms around his waist.

 

"Essex?" Briefly, Scott felt confused. "Who's..." Then he realized the truth and jumped from the chair. "You went to see Sinister? You went behind my back? I can't believe you would do that! You of all people should know better than to trust Sinister!" Shocked, he turned away from Remy and paced the kitchen, raving softly. "Sinister created..." He lacked the words to voice his shock.

 

"I don' know exactly how he did it," Remy admitted. "I only know dat he used your DNA and mine. De chile is ours..." Remy softly rubbed his abdomen in an effort to reassure himself. Scott wouldn't abandon them. "Please, cher, you must understand. You wanted a family so badly and Nat'an said..."

 

"Nathan?" Scott turned around, stared at Remy and shook his head. "What the hell is going on here?" It was quite a shock to find out that his lover, his male lover, was pregnant courtesy of his old nemesis. Yes, Sinister had helped Remy to rid himself of Creed, but he didn't trust the scientist that much. "You know what he wants the child for? He wants it because he can add the child's DNA to his gene pool! And Nathan? What's that about? It's Sinister! One of our enemies!"

 

"He's also my fat'er, cher..." Remy's words were barely audible. He had suffered through Scott's raving, knowing he deserved it. "He's changed, cher. His empat'y is back and..."

 

"His empathy?" Suddenly reality hit Scott hard. They are father and son! I can't believe Remy did this behind my back! "Why didn't you tell me? Ask me if I was okay with it?"

 

"I wanted to make you happy," Remy mumbled, feeling guilty. "I acted on impulse and den it was too late..."

 

"Pregnant, you're pregnant with our child and Sinister...?"

 

"Nat'an is monitorin' me closely. So far everyt'in' is goin' jus' bien. I hoped you'd be happy..." Tears hid in his red on black eyes, but he managed to keep them back. "Cher, did I lose you?"

 

"Remy, I need some time to process this..." It was too much in too little time. Scott headed for the doorway, opened the door and stepped outside. Remy got to his feet to follow him, but he raised his right hand, stopping the Cajun. "Don't. I need time alone to work through this." He gave Remy a stern look. "Stay here and don't do anything stupid while I'm gone. I'll be back." He closed the door behind him and marched away from the boathouse. He's pregnant... Remy's pregnant with our child and Sinister... The bastard played him again! Fuck! Furious, he headed for the mansion. Maybe demolishing some training robots would help him see things more clearly.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

In shock, Remy settled down on the couch. Scott had left, was that a good or a bad sign? He said he'd be back. I jus' have to wait. Dis is my fault anyway... He gently rubbed his abdomen, knowing the fetus was growing stronger every day. Also, the presence in his mind felt strong and expanding. So far he had successfully avoided thinking about the child's possible mutant powers. He couldn't rule out that he felt the first stirrings of telepathic, maybe even empathic life.

 

The headache returned with a vengeance and he lay down, pulling the quilt that covered the back of the couch with him. Fighting down another bout of nausea, he managed to stay calm. Would he spend the rest of his pregnancy like this? Alone and miserable? Non, Scott loves me... loves me... he won' leave me...

 

Emotionally drained, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall asleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Remy? Remy!"

 

The voice and the loud banging on the door woke him from his slumber. Remy opened his eyes, stretched, and got to his feet. Taking the quilt with him, he opened the door. "Henri?" He was surprised to see McCoy on his doorstep. Merde! Scott probably sent him! I wanted to keep dis between us and now he told Henri!

 

"Remy, can I come inside?"

 

"Naturelement." Like he had a choice! He headed back to the couch and collapsed on it. "Scott sent you, didn' he?"

 

Hank nodded his head. "He's concerned about you and asked me to talk to you." Hank raised an eyebrow. "You don't look very well, my Acadian friend. Maybe a warm drink will help? Hot milk is said to soothe the nerves."

 

Listlessly, Remy shrugged his shoulders. "Dere's some milk in the fridge." He wasn't thirsty, but maybe the warm drink would help.

 

Hank entered the kitchen and warmed some milk. He kept a close eye on the Cajun while pouring the milk into the mug. Making sure Remy wasn't watching him, he added some white powder to the milk and then stirred.

 

Remy was huddled beneath the quilt, doing his best to lock Hank out. His own emotions were upsetting him and he didn't want to deal with Hank's as well. "Merci," he whispered, as Hank handed him the mug. Once it had cooled down, he sipped from it. "Tastes funny." He arched an eyebrow, unable to identify the alien taste.

 

Hank smiled reassuringly. "There's nothing wrong with it. Maybe your taste buds are still trying to recover from the Gumbo you made?"

 

"Funny..." Remy sipped again, but the odd taste was still there. "Henri, mon ami..." He froze, seeing the insane gleam in Hank's eyes. His instincts kicked in and alarmed, he reached out. Henri? Henri... Mon Dieu... Hank's mind felt... off. The texture of the mind was different. It was vile and... His eyes grew huge, realizing he wasn't sitting opposite McCoy. "Dark Beast..."

 

Dark Beast bared his teeth and grinned. "You drank more than enough, LeBeau. It's only a matter of seconds now..."

 

His eyes almost popped from their sockets, feeling the sedative rush through his veins. "You... you..." Unable to finish the sentence, he dropped to one side. His eyes closed, and his body shivered as he lost consciousness.

 

Dark Beast moved quickly, placed the mug on the coffee table and picked up his victim, draping him over his shoulder. "Apocalypse will be pleased."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Warren frowned, wondering why Scott was fighting the training robots like a possessed man. Okay, Slim, you helped me in the past, looks like it's my turn to help you. He shut down the training program and ignored the furious growl that came from inside the Danger Room. Steeling himself for whatever had upset Scott he entered the Danger Room and walked up to his friend. "Slim? We need those training robots. It's bad enough Logan wreaks havoc here every so often, if you start doing it as well..." He hoped the teasing would work and relax Scott. But the angry expression on Scott's face remained.

 

"Start the program again," Scott ordered. He still needed to get rid of his remaining anger.

 

"We might try talking." Warren rested a hand on his friend's shoulder and steered Scott outside. "Let's sit down and talk." His room was closest and would guarantee their privacy. Scott reluctantly allowed it, but crossed his arms defensively and Warren shook his head. "What's this tantrum about, Slim? I don't recognize you like this."

 

"Remy did something without my knowledge and..." Scott's voice trailed off. "I still have trouble believing he did what he did."

 

"And what was that?" Warren wasn't sure Scott would entrust his secrets to him, but he had to try. "I'm good at keeping secrets." Hell, he had known about Sinister helping Remy to find a way out of his depression and he hadn't told on the Cajun!

 

"It's something private," Scott said evasively. 

 

"Remy has looked bad these last few days. Does this have anything to do with his health?" Warren sat down opposite Scott and rested his feet on the coffee table. "Scott, we go back a long way, you and I. If you can't trust me, you won't be able to talk to anyone else either. Nothing you say will ever leave this room. You look like you desperately need to talk to someone."

 

Scott considered Warren's words and found them true. "Remy sought out Sinister behind my back."

 

Warren shrugged his shoulders; he had expected something like that. "And that surprises you? They're father and son. I can understand Remy. I would have wanted to know more about a father I had never known."

 

"But he plays Remy time and time again and Remy always ends up hurt!"

 

"Scott, you can't protect Remy from himself... And I doubt Sinister is the same maniac we knew. Yeah, he took Creed with him when he left that last time, but I doubt he faked his concern where Remy was concerned."

 

Scott released a surprised sigh. "How can you say that? Sinister created the Marauders! You know what they did to the Morlocks and to your wings!"

 

"I have had a long time to think this over, Slim. I blamed Remy for the loss of my wings and in the end I finally realized I was blaming the wrong person. Hodge took my wings... Scott, I’ve made mistakes myself. When I was Death, I wasn't myself. Apocalypse told me what to do and I followed his orders. I don't know what possessed Sinister to make a deal with Apocalypse, but I'm not condemning anyone anymore before I know the whole story." Warren's frown deepened. "I don't believe you're mad at Remy just because he contacted his father."

 

"There's more," Scott admitted with a strangled sigh. He had to make his decision now; could he count on Warren to keep this a secret? Yes. And he desperately needed to talk to someone. "Remy's pregnant with my child."

 

"What?" Warren's eyes widened. Mouth agape, he stared at Scott in disbelief. "He's what?"

 

"Hank told him that a male pregnancy was impossible so he went to Sinister."

 

Warren shook his head. "Why would Remy want to carry your child? I mean, we're men! Men don't give birth!"

 

Frustrated, Scott banged his fist into the coffee table. "I told him I wanted children... I was thinking about adoption, but Remy... He just now told me."

 

"That's why you were in the Danger Room." Warren considered his next words. "Scott, I can't say I understand why Remy did it, but shouldn't you be with him right now? To talk things through? If you're feeling like this, imagine how confused he must feel!" Warren got to his feet and opened the door. He still didn't understand why Remy was this determined to carry Scott's child, but Scott running away from the facts wasn't helping. "Go to Remy and talk this over. You're going to be a father, Scott..." Remy pregnant? If it wasn't the truth it would be hilarious! He had never heard of a male pregnancy before, but it certainly sounded like something the Cajun could pull off.

 

Scott got to his feet, but didn't approach the doorway. "I don't think that's a good idea, Warren. I'm still mad and I don't know what I'll do."

 

"Slim, do you love Remy?" Warren could hardly believe he was having this conversation! "Do you?"

 

"Yeah, I love him..."

 

Something in Scott's face softened and Warren smiled approvingly. "Do you think you'll love your child?"

 

Scott swallowed hard. "Yeah, I think so."

 

"Then what's the problem? Remy needs you right now. He just told you and you left. Knowing our Cajun he's brooding and feeling damn guilty for what he’s done. Get moving, Slim!"

 

Scott actually managed a smile. "Kicking me in the ass, huh?"

 

"If necessary," Warren confirmed. "I'm sure you and Remy can work things out. Now get going!"

 

This time Scott nodded his head and hurried into the corridor. Warren was right. He and Remy would work things out and, being honest with himself, he already loved the idea of having a child with Remy.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Remy? I'm back. Can I come inside or do you want me to leave again? He stood in the living room of the boathouse, hoping Remy would react to his thoughts. He had told Remy to stay here and to wait for his return, but he couldn't be sure Remy had obeyed. And honestly, he couldn't blame Remy for leaving. The way he had stormed out must have hurt his lover. Remy? Remy? Are you still here? You have every right to be mad at me, but come on, answer me!

 

Losing patience, he marched into the bedroom they used to share, but found it empty. He searched the boathouse methodically, but the Cajun was nowhere to be found. "Damn it, Remy, what did you do this time? I told you to wait for me."

 

Frustrated, he collapsed onto the couch. Scanning the room, he noticed the mug on the coffee table. He curled his fingers around the mug; the milk was still warm. Remy couldn't have left long ago if the mug was still warm. Staring at the warm milk, he placed the mug at his lips with the intention to sip. "What's that awful smell?" The milk didn't smell like it should and after taking a tiny sip, he quickly put it down again. Something was wrong with the milk!

 

This can't be a coincidence. Remy's gone and the milk smells and tastes funny. Argh, Remy, don't tell me you’ve gotten yourself into trouble again! Scott left the couch and picked up the phone, trying to remember which team members were at the mansion. "Hank? I need you at the boathouse, and bring Warren..."

 

"The boathouse? What are you doing there?"

 

"Remy and I had dinner here and now he's gone. I have the feeling someone drugged his milk and carried him off."

 

"Any signs of struggle?"

 

"None. Hank, hurry up."

 

"I'm on my way." Hank ended the conversation and left the lab.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Cold. He was cold and in pain. A low moan escaped his throat and he tried to move, but found that he was almost completely immobilized. He could move his fingers, but that was about it. He was lying on something hard and cold and leather bonds were keeping him in place. His eyes opened slowly, fearful of the bright light they might encounter, but the lights were dimmed and they flew open. Where de hell am I?

 

It didn't take him long to identify his surroundings. He was in some sort of lab, but it wasn't Essex's. This one was slightly different. So if Essex hadn't strapped him to this exam table, who had? Dark Beast! The memories returned to him and he shivered. His attempt to fight the straps was useless. Let's charge dem! But when he tried to charge them, nothing happened. Mon Dieu, he collared me! The dreaded weight around his neck was back. Non, I can' give in. I have to fight, have to fight for my chile!

 

The door opened and Dark Beast entered the lab. Remy didn't have to remind himself that it wasn't Hank; Dark Beast's evil mind was a constant reminder. Huh? I can still sense his emotions, even collared? Dark Beast approached him and Remy trembled, only now noticing the IV he was hooked up to. Dark Beast picked up a syringe and injected a dark fluid into the IV port. The silence was getting on his nerves. Why wasn't the other mutant talking to him? "Non, what are you doin'? Don' you dare hurt my chile!"

 

Dark Beast laughed. "Don't worry, LeBeau. I want your child alive and well."

 

Remy's heart missed a beat. "You're after my chile? Why? Ai.... Ai!" A terrible pain rushed through his veins. "What’s dat?"

 

"I can't wait eight months for your child to be born, LeBeau. This concoction will quicken the fetus' development. What usually takes months will now only take one, maybe two weeks."

 

Remy screamed and tried to move his bound hands to his abdomen. The tiny presence in his mind whimpered and he wished he knew how to protect his child. Mon Dieu... De pain! Only one, mebbe two weeks? He can' be serious!

 

Dark Beast leaned in closer and bared his teeth when he smiled. "Nine days from now your child will be born and I'll hand it over to Apocalypse. I don't know why he wants it, but he's paying me a lot of money and I get to keep your dead body to conduct some research on. Oh, didn't I tell you? Unfortunately, you won't survive the birth. Apocalypse gave me strict orders to make sure you die."

 

Remy's breath came in gasps. Apocalypse is behind dis? Why? Why does he want my chile? Mon Dieu, de pain... It's bad... I never felt anyt'in' like it and de li'l one is hurtin' as well. It's not supposed to grow dis fast... I can feel it grow, become stronger... Ai, de pain... It's burnin' me up!

 

Satisfied, Dark Beast watched his prisoner squirm on the exam table. "You'd better get used to the pain, LeBeau. It's the only thing you'll feel until you die."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"What do we do now? Why isn't the professor here when I need him?" Scott paced the living area of the boathouse, watching Hank analyze the milk. Warren was trying to talk him into sitting down, but he simply ignored his friend. He felt damned guilty for walking out on Remy. If he had stayed, none of this would have happened.

 

"You're right," Hank said, after evaluating the test results. "I found a strong sedative in the milk."

 

"Someone abducted Remy! Abducted my lover and my child!" Oops, Hank didn't know that one yet, but he would have found anyway. Scott nodded his head in confirmation. "Remy's pregnant."

 

Hank stayed calm. "I already suspected as much, but how?"

 

"I helped him."

 

The three X-Men quickly turned around. "Sinister!" Scott's rage exploded seeing his nemesis in the doorway. At that moment he didn't wonder how Sinister had gotten past the security system. He simply marched forward and landed a right hook on Sinister's ugly visage. "You're to blame for this!" Only then did he realize that Sinister hadn't lashed back at him. The scientist had taken the blow and was now calmly staring at him. "You should have told him no!"

 

Sinister focused on Scott. "You agreed to this."

 

"I didn't!" Scott yelled the words. "I never agreed to his! He just told me!" Was it just his imagination or did Sinister's eyes lose some of their usual venomous expression? "You took advantage of him! You want the child for your own experiments."

 

"No." Sinister shook his head. "This was my way of making things up to him. I would never hurt Remy. I couldn't hurt him, even if I wanted to. There's something that makes me want to protect him. He's my son, my second chance..." Thinking of Remy, he ignored the X-Men. Completely focused on his own worries, his appearance changed involuntarily. Now that he was worried about Remy, he reacted like the man he used to be.

 

Stunned, Hank watched the transformation from Sinister into Essex. He knew Sinister was a metamorph, but he had seldom seen the scientist use his powers.

 

Scott realized it was time to take action. "Hank, I want you to return to the mansion. I'll stay in contact and should I need backup you'll have to provide it. Try to locate the professor and Logan, just in case we need help."

 

"Are you sure? Maybe I should stay and..." Hank recognized the expression on Scott's face and obeyed. "Report in every four hours." Quickly, he left to carry out Scott's instructions.

 

Scott studied Essex, seeing worry and even fear in the scientist's eyes. "What are you doing here?"

 

"I sensed that Remy was in trouble." He was surprised that Scott and Warren accepted his presence. "Tell me what happened."

 

"Someone drugged his milk and then carried him off," Warren supplied. His first reaction had been to prepare for a fight, seeing Sinister in their midst, but Scott's calm reassured him and he decided to wait and see what happened next. He had never seen Nathaniel Essex; he only knew Sinister. Essex was dressed in Victorian clothes, had a black moustache and a trimmed beard and looked about forty. So this is who you used to be before Apocalypse got his hands on you? We have more in common than I ever thought. Apocalypse changed you into Mister Sinister and he transformed me into Death. Do you hate Apocalypse as well?

 

Essex gave Warren a thoughtful look. Had Warren sent him those thoughts on purpose or didn't the X-Man know he was broadcasting? Hate Apocalypse? Maybe. At the time I thought I was making the right decision and Apocalypse didn't force me to accept his proposal, not exactly. He just didn't tell me what price I was supposed to pay. If I had denied Apocalypse, Remy would never have been born...

 

"We need to find out who kidnapped Remy." Scott continued pacing. "Was it Creed?"

 

"No," Essex replied softly. "Creed's safely locked away."

 

"I hate not knowing what's going on!" Scott wanted to formulate a plan of action, but all he could do was wait.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The pain was always present and constantly shot through his veins. Eventually, it found the fetus and unleashed its effect. It was impossible to grow used to the pain and Remy lost track of time. Only the pain existed, the pain and the presence in his mind, which was frightened and miserable.

 

Dark Beast grinned after injecting more of his concoction into the IV port. Remy had been his prisoner for twenty-four hours now and he was already immensely pleased with the new data he was gathering. Ignoring his prisoner's pain filled screams, he tightened the straps, making sure the collared Cajun wouldn't escape accidentally. He was so focused on his project that he never noticed the arrival of his employer.

 

Apocalypse's eyes settled on LeBeau, who released a horrid wail as the pain got the better of him. Displeased, Apocalypse advanced on Dark Beast.

 

Dark Beast finally grew aware of Apocalypse and turned around with a leering grin on his face.

 

Apocalypse studied the Cajun, realizing what was going on. "You're going against my orders, Dark Beast."

 

"I didn't think you'd mind." Dark Beast met Apocalypse's eyes. "You want him dead, so what does it matter if he suffers some pain prior to that?"

 

Apocalypse walked over to the exam table. It took him several minutes to capture Remy's gaze with his. The empathy was still at work, but he managed to deflect it.

 

Remy blindly stared at the ceiling, but then something tugged at his mind. Giving in to the pull, he met Apocalypse's eyes. Mon Dieu, now my days are truly numbered... I'm so sorry, li'l one... He knew better than to expect mercy from Apocalypse and didn't plead with the powerful mutant.

 

"Untie him," Apocalypse commanded.

 

Dark Beast froze in his tracks. "What?"

 

"You heard me, untie him. There's an examination room next to your office where he'll be comfortable. I also want you to give him something against the pain."

 

Remy's eyes widened. Did Apocalypse really say dat? Why help me?

 

Apocalypse leaned in closer until his face hovered above Remy's. "Yes, you'll die after giving birth to your child, but that doesn't mean you have to suffer unnecessarily."

 

Remy licked his lips. "Why?" Would he finally get his answer? "Why do dis to me and my chile?"

 

"You're only a pawn in this game," Apocalypse revealed. "My minion, Mister Sinister, has found a way to undo the restrictions I placed upon him. I took away his feelings and his empathy to make sure he would serve me well. But you woke these feelings inside him again. He needs to know his place and you're going to help me."

 

"Dis is 'bout my fat'er?" The torturous pain made it hard for him to speak, but he persevered.

 

"Give him something against the pain," Apocalypse ordered again, undoing the last restraints.

 

Reluctantly, Dark Beast injected a painkiller into the IV port. "You're making a mistake."

 

But Apocalypse didn't react to Dark Beast's words. He helped Remy sit upright and watched as the Cajun's right hand settled over his stomach.

 

Remy gulped, feeling the slight 'bump'. Dark Beast's concoction was working; the fetus' growth had been accelerated. Eight days... if Dark Beast had spoken the truth he would give birth to his child in eight days! It was supposed to be eight months!

 

"Help him to his room and make sure he's comfortable. I don't have a quarrel with Gambit." Apocalypse watched Dark Beast and saw the mutant's reluctance to help the prisoner. After Dark Beast deposited Gambit on the bed, he grabbed the other mutant by the throat. "I said you could have him after he died. I want that baby for my Horsemen. This child will be the perfect Death and you're not harming Gambit before the child's born. Do you understand?"

 

Due to Apocalypse's hold, Dark Beast was unable to nod his head. "Under... stand..."

 

Apocalypse released Dark Beast and checked on the Cajun, who had curled up on the bed, his arms wrapped protectively around his waist. "Make sure he's comfortable. I'll visit again tomorrow to make sure you're following orders." Remy was the perfect tool to get back at Sinister.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Essex sat in a chair at the command center of the X-Men mansion. Scott kept a close eye on him and accompanied him wherever he went. The strain that Scott was suffering was clearly visible. Scott had been unable to sleep since this had started and going nonstop for forty-eight hours was affecting him. "You need to rest," Essex pointed out. "You won't be in any shape to help Remy if you exhaust yourself like this." His words made Warren and Scott look up. "What?"

 

"I didn't believe Remy when he said you had changed." Scott leaned back in his chair, but his fingers clawed the armrest. His former nemesis hadn't morphed back and Essex sat opposite him. "Remy mentioned you're an empath as well?"

 

"When I was still Nathaniel Essex I didn't know I was a mutant. I had no idea what empathy was, or telepathy. Looking at it in hindsight I know I built walls that were strong enough to even keep out my wife, Rebecca. The only one who managed to get past them was my firstborn, Adam, but he died when he was still a child."

 

"And Remy?" Warren crossed his arms, feeling curious.

 

"Remy changed everything." Essex met Warren's eyes. "I did some terrible things to Remy, and the Massacre was one of them. I doubt you'll ever understand, but Apocalypse took away my feelings and because of Remy they have slowly returned. I fought the return of my empathy at first, but then Remy drew in Scott's depression and your professor contacted me, asking for my help."

 

"I saw you morph from Jean-Luc back into Sinister when you left," Warren admitted.

 

Essex's head jerked up. "You what?"

 

"I promised to keep it a secret. Remy was already upset.” Warren realized he had made the right decision. "So how does it feel now that your empathy's back?"

 

Essex briefly closed his eyes. "I'm trying to make things up to Remy for my mistakes in the past. Helping him to get pregnant was my way of making it up to him."

 

Scott shook his head. "I can't believe Remy talked you into it." Oh, he knew Remy had probably wound Essex around his little finger after learning his father was so eager to help him. This had been Remy's game plan all along.

 

"There's one thing that I don't understand," Essex said, while shifting his gaze from Warren to Scott. "Why didn't he tell you? He assured me you agreed to having a child."

 

Scott shrugged his shoulder. "I'm still trying to figure Remy out. The one thing I have learned is that he's unpredictable. He might trust me, but deep down in his heart he still fears rejection. He probably felt it was safest to wait until the baby was born before telling me. That way, the baby would already be born and I couldn't do anything else but accept it. Remy's mind works in mysterious ways." A part of him rejoiced at becoming a father, but the other part felt betrayed by his lover's lack of trust in him. Remy, I would have accepted the pregnancy, the child, but things would have been a lot easier if you had told me straight away!

 

Suddenly, the air shifted, and alarmed, the three men jumped to their feet. "What's that?" Scott had no idea what was manifesting in the control room. It wasn't the professor; he could identify Charles' mind signature easily. This was someone else.

 

Essex was the first to identify the intruder. "It's Apocalypse." Instinctively, he shifted back to his pervious form and Sinister stalked closer to the moving air. "I had my suspicions, but I wasn't sure."

 

Scott suddenly felt trapped between Apocalypse and Sinister. His old instincts warned him not to trust Sinister. Essex was a different matter, but Sinister...? Am I going insane or do I trust Essex... uh, Sinister... Essex?

 

Apocalypse grinned at Sinister. "I thought I'd find you here, traitor."

 

Sinister's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

 

"Your obedience. You're mine... your soul is mine. You have no right to reclaim it."

 

"Let Remy go." Sinister gathered his powers, ready to strike out at Apocalypse if necessary.

 

"No," Apocalypse whispered, amused. "He's mine as well, but... come to me, swear an oath of allegiance and I might let the baby live."

 

"Never... I'll never serve you again."

 

Scott cringed. Remy's life was at stake here!

 

"I'll get him back," Sinister vowed. "And I'll destroy you."

 

"Destroy me?" Apocalypse laughed, amused. "Feel free to try. You know where to find me and... don't forget, Remy's only got seven days left to live."

 

"Why?" Scott moved closer, stepping between Apocalypse and Essex. "What did you do to him? He was in perfect health the last time I saw him!"

 

Apocalypse merely grinned. "Let's just say he'll give birth to one of the most powerful mutants in seven days and he won't survive the birth."

 

"You bastard!" Scott tried to launch himself at Apocalypse, unable to stand the triumphant grin on the mutant's face any longer, but Warren moved quickly and caught him before he reached Apocalypse.

 

"Don't do this, Slim! He's doing this to piss you off, hoping you'll lose it. Don't give him that satisfaction." Warren tightened his hold on Scott, who was trying to fight him off. "Remy needs you sane and in one piece."

 

Warren's words finally penetrated Scott's mind. "I'm going to get Remy back, Remy and our child!"

 

Sinister nodded his head in approval. "We're coming for Remy. You'd better return him to us now because we won't stop until we have him back."

 

Apocalypse smirked and then disappeared. Everything was going as planned; they would walk into his trap and then they would be at his mercy. Essex, we're not finished yet.

 

Scott freed himself from Warren's hold and turned around. "Don't you ever do that again! I was going to blast his arrogant head off!"

 

"And how would that help Remy?" Warren inquired, calmly.

 

"Warren's right," Essex said, quickly transforming back. He no longer felt like Sinister and didn't want to look like that monster anymore, but sometimes the armor came in handy. "Apocalypse was playing with you. We need to keep our wits about us and hit him when and where he least expects it."

 

Scott collapsed onto a chair, feeling drained. "What do you suggest?" The bastard's got Remy and my child! I want them back, both of them!

 

"I can open a tesseract and it will take us to Apocalypse's base." Essex thought everything over. "But first we need a plan."

 

Scott bounced back; making plans was something he excelled at. Looking at Warren and Essex, he realized it was up to the three of them to rescue Remy.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

True to his word, Apocalypse returned the next day. Remy was curled up on the exam bed, and only reluctantly raised his eyes when Apocalypse entered. In a weird way he felt thankful that Apocalypse had stopped the pain. Although Dark Beast still administered the concoction, he also gave him painkillers, which numbed his agony. The baby had grown since yesterday and it showed. His abdomen was no longer flat and the presence in his mind was still growing stronger. Thankfully, the child didn't seem to be in any pain. "Merci," he whispered eventually.

 

Apocalypse nodded his head once. "Is there anything you need... within limits of course."

 

"Pen and paper?" Remy wasn't sure Apocalypse would give him those things. The fact that he would never talk to Scott again made it necessary that he write everything down. Maybe Scott would find his letters and know he had never wanted to hurt his lover by doing this behind his back.

 

"Give him pen and paper," Apocalypse told Dark Beast, while advancing on his prisoner. "I can feel it. Your child is growing stronger. Do you have any idea how strong it will be? Stronger than Nate... Your DNA, combined with Scott Summers', will create one of the strongest mutants alive and your child will serve me."

 

"Non," Remy spat, defiantly. "Scott will make sure you never get your filt'y hands on our chile!"

 

Apocalypse smiled. "Gambit... I'll kill Summers after the baby has killed you. Don't you understand that this is one big trap? Scott and Essex will come for you and by destroying them I'll rid myself of their annoying presence. Your child will take its place as Death and lead my Horsemen to new victories."

 

Remy shivered violently. "I'd rat'er kill myself... and de chile..."

 

"Ah, but you can't. Dark Beast observes your every move and will prevent you from committing suicide. Don't be too eager to die. You'll be dead in six days anyway."

 

The presence in his mind stirred and Remy bit his lower lip. I'll find a way out, li'l one, trust me...

 

"Here, your pen and paper." Dark Beast dropped the items on the bed.

 

"Is the fetus developing according to plan?" Apocalypse's gaze shifted from Remy to Dark Beast. "The accelerated growth process won't harm it?"

 

Dark Beast shook his head. "No harm."

 

Pleased, Apocalypse turned away from Remy and left the exam room, gesturing Dark Beast to accompany him. Once he was sure that Remy couldn't hear him, he said, "Keep a close eye on him. He looks docile, but he's still willing to fight. If you have to kill him, make sure the child stays unharmed."

 

"I understand," Dark Beast mumbled, pleased.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Scott, knowing I'll never see you again, makes this even harder. I'm writing this, uncertain if you'll ever read my words. Apocalypse granted me pen and paper and... and these will be my last words. Remy put down the pen, wondering how to start. Dark Beast had just given him another injection and even in spite of the painkillers, the backaches and headaches were killing him. His entire body hurt and his stomach convulsed frantically.

 

I regret being that secretively, but when you told me how much you wanted a family, I knew I had to act. What I said at the boathouse is true. I want you to be happy and... I was being selfish as well, but I didn't realize that at the time. Remy stared at the doorway, knowing Dark Beast was watching him closely.

 

You know what my childhood was like, cher. After fleeing the Antiquary I got a real home with Jean-Luc and being there taught me how important it is to have someone who loves you unconditionally. He never expected a personal revelation, but there it was. I wanted our child to have parents who loved unconditionally, who would be supportive and freely give the love my birth father never gave me. Essex told me he murdered by mother right after I was born and now history is going to repeat itself. Apocalypse will kill me to get to our child and... Mon Dieu, I don't want our child to suffer my fate.

 

But my hands are tied, cher. Our child is growing stronger every passing hour. I can feel it grow, feel the presence in my mind. How will the child react when I die? When the connection is torn apart? Cher, you have to save our child.

 

I don't know if and when you will ever read this letter. I just want you to know how much I love you. These last few weeks were the best of my life. You showed me the beauty of making love, of belonging. I'll try to write some more later, but right now I'm so tired. It's those drugs Dark Beast keeps feeding me. Please, cher, don't let Apocalypse ruin our child's life.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Frustrated, Scott stared at the abandoned control center. "He's gone. Apocalypse is gone and we're too late! We're never going to find him!"

 

Warren was depressed as well. Essex had been so certain that they would find Apocalypse and Remy here. "What do we do now?"

 

"Search another one of his bases. We'll search them all until we find them!" Essex refused to give up, but they were running out of time. They only had five days left!

 

"Slim, maybe..."

 

"Just leave me alone, Warren!" Scott slammed the door behind him and retreated into the corridor to blow off some steam. Banging his fist into the wall, he cursed his own stupidity. "Why did I leave that day? Why couldn't I stay with you and be glad about the baby? Why did I run away? Why? Oh, Remy, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I should have trusted your judgment, but no, I thought I knew it all. Remy, I want you back..."

 

Warren exchanged a glance with Essex. They had heard Scott's words and felt equally depressed. "Do you think we'll find Remy in time?" Warren walked up to Essex, studying the older man. Essex's shoulders slumped forward and the eyes were dull and lifeless. "Don't tell me you've given up on Remy!"

 

"No, I haven't." Essex forced himself to keep up hope. "As I said earlier, we'll search his bases until we find the one where he's hiding Remy."

 

"Can we do that in five days? How many bases are there?" Scott had joined them again.

 

"A few..." Essex sighed. Suddenly, things looked hopeless.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Four more days to go, cher. I wish you were here. Today, the child kicked me for the first time. I was waking up from a nap, -I nap all the time these days-, and the li'l one was kicking me. It felt... there are no words, cher. I wish you had felt it too.

 

I don't know if it's a boy or a girl. My telepathy tells me a lot, but the gender remains a secret. Does it matter to you if it's boy or a girl? I didn't even think about the names yet. I thought I had months before making a decision, but now those months have changed into days.

 

Apocalypse and Dark Beast are watching me. They're afraid I'm going to kill myself. I threatened to do that... but I can't do it. I can't kill our child. I still hope you'll find the li'l one in time. Please, cher, I'm afraid.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Another day has passed. Three more until the birth of our child. Apocalypse keeps telling me that I won't survive the birth, that I'll never see our child and that hurts. Trying to distract myself, I've been thinking about names. If it's a girl, you could name her Jean. I think Jean would have liked that. And if it's a boy? Did I ever tell you about David and Benjamin? They were good friends, helped me through one of the roughest patches in life. I'd like Benny... if that's okay with you... not that I'll have a say in the matter.

 

Cher, maybe it's a good thing you can't see me now. You won't believe how much weight I've gained in just a few days. When I look down I can barely see my feet. It feels like the child is absorbing my energy and it probably is. Remy put down the pen and rubbed his abdomen beneath his shirt. At times, the child moved and he had never felt a closer connection to anyone before, even with Scott. I wanna see you grow up... wanna love you... wanna show you how bien life can be and instead I damned you to hell by lyin' to Scott.

 

Cher, I don't know how to say I'm sorry. I wanted to experience this with you. I wanted us to share the burden and pleasures of pregnancy. You could have given me back rubs... and I would love you to rub my feet right now, but it won't happen. Scott, I don't know where you are, but I know you're going insane by now... Please come after us and save the baby?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Cher, what am I supposed to do? I've only got forty-eight hours left and...Ai, de baby kicked 'gain... Remy pushed a pillow behind his back and rode out the nagging pain. It won't be long and then Dark Beast will be back with another injection, the last one. They expect the child to be born in the next forty-eight hours. Unable to continue, Remy stared at the paper. Cher, I want you to be wit' me when it happens... not Dark Beast and Apocalypse. Dark Beast hinted he'd lemme bleed to deat'. But he couldn't tell Scott that. He had to be strong now.

 

Would you contact Jean-Luc and Mattie and tell them I died? Don't tell them how I died. Just say it was in battle and my body was vaporized, something like that. I don't want them to see my corpse and figure out the truth. Tell Bobby I like him a lot. And Warren... I would have liked to become friends; we were heading in that direction.

 

He released a strangled sigh as the baby shifted. The presence in his mind pushed deeper, nestling itself in his thoughts. Cher, I can feel our baby. The li'l one is making himself at home in my mind. I'm afraid you've got another telepath on your hands, don't know about the empathy. We're so deeply intertwined that it's hard to tell.

 

Cher, I don't know if I can write again. Dark Beast is prepping the operating theatre and it won't be long before he moves me out there. I... I've got to stop writing now....

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Famous last words, cher? Sorry, but I think I'm slowly losing my mind. This is the last time I can write down my thoughts. My time's almost up. I only got four more hours to go. Cher? Je t'aime, don't ever forget that. I fought Apocalypse and Dark Beast, but I'm hardly a match for them in my condition. Je t'aime, cher. Try to save the li'l one and love our child? Cher... Dark Beast is entering my room and... Adieu, cher... je t'aime... Remy faced Dark Beast and tried to fight down his rising panic. This was it.

 

"Get to your feet, LeBeau."

 

"I ain' sure I can..." He struggled into a sitting position, but the weight pushed him back down. "Mon Dieu, I can' do dis." His belly was round and the child ready to be born, but he felt incredibly weak. The child had absorbed his energy, his strength, and he was wasting away. Dark Beast and Apocalypse won' have to kill me, givin' birt' will!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"This is the last base! Remy and Apocalypse have to be here!" Essex was panicking, but he didn't want Scott and Warren to know that he was losing it. During the last week, they had spent every minute together, sharing hope and despair.

 

"You're an empath. Can you feel Remy?" Warren was nervous as well and he didn't dare look at Scott, who had tightly locked away his emotions and was now acting as his old self, the hard ass team leader who refused to show any feelings. It was Scott's way of dealing with the situation, but Scott was shutting them out while they needed each other!

 

Hearing Warren's words, Scott looked expectedly at Essex. "Is Remy here?" He and Essex had buried the hatchet, working closely together in order to find Remy. Essex had convinced him that he was sincere and Scott had let go of most of his suspicions.

 

Essex focused inwardly and reached out with his empathy. Using this power felt odd as he hadn't used it for decades. He was about to give up, when he picked up his son's weak mind signature. "Yes! He's here," he exclaimed triumphantly. "We found Remy and he's still alive!"

 

Scott licked his lips, unable to show his excitement at hearing the good news. He wanted Remy and their child in his arms first. "What are we waiting for?"

 

"Remember the plan!" Warren stopped Scott. "Essex and I will distract Apocalypse while you go after Remy."

 

"Use the link," Essex advised. "As you get closer to Remy you'll feel him in your mind." Essex pointed Scott in the correct direction. "He's close... He's in an operating theatre and... and the child is about to be born. You have to hurry!"

 

Scott didn't bother to answer and disappeared in the corridor, leaving Warren and Essex behind.

 

Warren met Essex's eyes. "Apocalypse ruined my life... I want a piece of him."

 

Essex raised his hand. "I know what he did to you, but we're in no way as powerful as he is. We need to provide a distraction, nothing more. We can't destroy him and we would be fools to try. Distract him and then retreat..." Warren growled something unintelligible. "Believe me," Essex started, "I want him dead as well, but Apocalypse is nearly indestructible. Scott and Remy are depending on us. We distract Apocalypse and then return to the Blackbird."

 

Warren was about to point out to Essex that he didn't have to take any orders from him, but... Essex is right. This isn't the time for revenge... Remy needs us.

 

That's the right spirit...

 

Warren took a step away from Essex. "Stay out of my mind."

 

"Communicating telepathically enhances our chances of a surprise attack." He started walking down the corridor that would lead them to Apocalypse. "But if you want to throw away that advantage, there's nothing I can do to stop you."

 

"I hate it when you're right." Were they bantering? Warren followed Essex and lowered his shields.

 

A wise decision, Essex complimented his companion, wondering how they were going to distract Apocalypse long enough without getting killed.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

Apocalypse watched their arrival closely. Summers was going after LeBeau and didn't require his immediate attention. Dark Beast could handle that situation. Remy LeBeau would be dead once Summers reached his lover and Dark Beast would bring him the baby. No, he needed to focus on the two traitors; Essex and Worthington. He had never thought it possible that Essex could escape his grasp. By taking his empathy away, the scientist had become emotionless, fed by his eagerness to continue his research, but now...? Essex had even taken on his old form, no longer wearing the armor he had given the scientist.

 

"My revenge will be sweet." He was looking forward to getting back at Essex. He wouldn't kill his former minion, no, he had something far worse in mind for Essex. And then there was Worthington. Transforming him into Death had been risky, but Worthington had lived up to his expectations. It was a damn pity that Rogue had managed to reclaim him for the X-Men. He wasn't sure yet what kind of punishment Worthington deserved... maybe he would rip the mutant's wings off? Yes, he liked that idea.

 

Moving soundlessly, he sneaked up on them. They don't even know I'm here... Worthless insects... Essex, you disappoint me.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Essex grabbed Warren's shoulder and forced the X-Man to a halt. Frozen in his tracks, he reached out telepathically. We're not longer alone.

 

Warren hated seeing Essex morph into Sinister and involuntarily took a step back. His subconscious still felt Sinister was the enemy. Now what?

 

We need to distract him and to stay alive. Use your flight to your advantage. My armor will protect me, but you'll have to be quick to avoid getting hit. Warren spread his wings and Essex felt awed. Had he really had a hand in destroying those wings? Apocalypse, the price was too high. You took away my humanity... Now that I've got it back I won't let you take it away from me again.

 

Warren flew close to the ceiling, trying to get a good view of the room they were in. Suddenly, his sharp eyes picked up Apocalypse's form. Essex, look out! He's coming up from behind you!

 

Essex quickly turned around to face Apocalypse. Seeing the look on the other mutant's face, he realized that they had been lured into a trap. The pure evil that Apocalypse radiated almost made him nauseous. "I want my son back." Raising his arms, the palms of his hands began to twitch, powering up for an energy blast.

 

Apocalypse laughed loudly. "Your son's dying as we speak. You crossed me... You defied me. I have to punish you, Essex."

 

Essex prepared to release the energy blast. He called me Essex; he knows the transformation is complete. The empathy's back and I can't go back to being Sinister, he knows it! That means he's going to kill me... and Remy! He had forgotten about Warren and was startled when the X-Man launched an attack.

 

"Puny insect!" Apocalypse caught Warren in mid flight and flung him against the metal wall. "I gave you power! I gave you immortality and you threw it away!"

 

Warren moaned, sliding down the wall. He hit the floor hard, realizing he had suffered at least one bruised or even broken rib but he wasn't giving up yet. He managed to get back to his feet, staggered, and leaned against the wall to support himself. Maybe it's not only one bruised rib... Fuck, it hurts! "You changed me into Death against my will! I never wanted to be a Horseman. I was in so much pain... my wings..." His emotions had gotten the better of him and that made him careless. He never saw the blast coming that Apocalypse aimed at him. He went down again and curled up, wrapping his arms around his ribcage. His eyes widened, seeing Apocalypse stalk toward him. Fuck, I'm in no shape to fight him...

 

"Stay away from him," Essex whispered in a low tone. The warning, the threat, was clearly audible.

 

Amused, Apocalypse's gaze shifted from Warren to Essex. "I'm going to rip his wings off... and you're next."

 

The sudden terror that emanated from Warren made Essex flinch. Damn his empathy! Now he remembered why he had always locked it away. He strengthened his shields, but it was too late. Memories of losing his wings consumed Warren. I've got to stop this... "It ends here, Apocalypse."

 

Apocalypse grinned. "Yes, it ends here... for you!" He raised his hands and a blue cloud fled his fingertips, heading in Essex's direction. "I gave you these powers... and I can take them away!"

 

The blue cloud surrounded him and Essex screamed in pain. He collapsed onto his knees and clutched his head between his hands. His body convulsed in pain as the armor was ripped from his skin. His brow and his eyes burned and he collapsed into himself. Feeling weak, he fought for breath, wondering why his skin was still crawling. He opened his eyes and forced himself to look at his hands. My God... The armor's gone... The energy that fed my blasts... gone... My knowledge... I'm forgetting things! A tormented scream left his lips. "No!"

 

Warren gathered his courage and his strength and pushed himself to his feet again. His courage was born out of despair, but he didn't hesitate and flung himself at Apocalypse, knowing he was going to pay a high price for his interference.

 

Enraged, Apocalypse had to divide his powers. Essex was still on his knees, growing weaker and younger... and Warren... "Those wings are mine!"

 

Warren's instincts kicked in. They had to retreat before Apocalypse would kill them both! Ignoring the burning pain in his chest, he changed direction and grabbed Essex's shoulders, taking him into the air with him. "Argh...!" His eyes almost bulged from their sockets, trying to carry the extra weight. He couldn't abandon Essex now!

 

Maneuvering skillfully, he managed to stay out of Apocalypse's firing range. He flew into a corridor and held onto Essex, who had lost consciousness.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Cher, I'm so sorry. I never wanted it to end like dis. Wanted you to be happy, wanted to spend de rest of my life wit' you! Remy kept his eyes tightly closed as Dark Beast hovered above him. Although he was in no shape to fight Dark Beast, the other mutant was strapping him to the exam table, leaving him vulnerable and helpless.

 

"You don't need this anymore." Dark Beast used a pair of scissors to cut Remy's shirt in two.

 

Remy's hands changed into fists, wanting to cover his abdomen with his hands, shielding his baby from Dark Beast's touch. The baby was now a constant presence in his mind, calling out for reassurance and he empathically caressed the frightened presence. Je t'aime, li'l one. Would have loved to find out if you're a boy or a girl, mais... Scott, where are you? We're runnin' out of time!

 

Peeking through his eyelids at his huge belly, he struggled against the bonds as Dark Beast injected a dark liquid into the IV port. I wanna live! I wanna see my chil', wanna hold my baby! Why? Why can' I hold my li'l one? The look Dark Beast cast at him, made him wary. Apparently, this was it.

 

Dark Beast shrugged his shoulders. "I don't care whether you're conscious or not, but Apocalypse wants you to fall asleep peacefully... You won't wake up again though."

 

Remy fought the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. Non, I don' wanna die! I'll fight it... fight it.... fight... Suddenly, the exam room around him faded as his mind fell into a dark, bottom-less pit.

 

Pleased, Dark Beast took hold of the scalpel and pushed it into the soft flesh. Remy would bleed to death.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Apocalypse strode into the operating theatre. Dark Beast was bowed over their prisoner and still warm blood dripped from the exam table. It was a pity that LeBeau had to die, but the Cajun would never willingly hand over his child. As he reached the exam table, he heard the cry of a newborn. A new, powerful mutant had been born and the child would serve him, only him!

 

Coldly, his eyes scanned LeBeau's abused form. Dark Beast had performed a caesarian section, without bothering to close the wound. LeBeau was bleeding profusely and his insides showed. He no longer paid the Cajun any attention. "Give me the baby."

 

Dark Beast had wrapped the baby in a towel and was about to hand the child to Apocalypse when an optic blast nearly took his head off. "Summers!"

 

Apocalypse quickly turned around and his eyes settled on the other mutant. "You're too late. Your lover is dead and Essex and Worthington are licking their wounds."

 

Scott could only stare at his lover's battered form. "No!" Remy couldn't die, couldn't leave him! He had to act quickly, or his lover would bleed to death! Acting on pure instinct, he blasted away at Apocalypse, who was forced to retreat momentarily. Running toward Dark Beast, he launched another attack and managed to knock the mutant over while quickly wrapping his arms around his child. My child, my baby... oh, Remy... A violent sob left his lips, realizing that Remy was no longer breathing. "No!"

 

Apocalypse signaled Dark Beast to move in on Summers, who was consumed by grief. Rage and sorrow made Summers extremely dangerous and he was going to leave it to Dark Beast to eliminate this threat.

 

"Oh no!" Essex stormed forward. Warren was behind him, and the winged mutant was still in a great deal of pain from the injuries he had suffered. Essex quickly analyzed the situation. Remy was clinically dead and if he wanted to bring his son back, they had to leave for his lab, now! "Scott, keep them at bay!"

 

Scott reacted at once and his optic blast tore the air apart. Essex grabbed Remy and lifted his son in his arms. Their only chance was to leave this place via a tesseract, but... Did he still possess the power to open one? Apocalypse had tried to rip his powers from him; had Apocalypse succeeded or had Warren interfered just in time? Please... my son's life depends on it!

 

Scott could hardly believed his eyes, seeing the tesseract take shape. Realizing Essex's game plan, he joined them. Essex entered the tesseract first, cradling Remy's body close his chest. "Warren, get moving!" Scott had seen Warren's slow responses and deduced correctly that his teammate was injured.

 

Warren knew he didn't have the time to argue and stumbled through the tesseract. Scott turned to face Apocalypse. "You killed Remy... And I'll find a way to kill you!" As he dived into the tesseract, he heard Apocalypse's malicious laughter. A moment later, he hit the floor hard, protecting the baby with his own body. Knowing that Essex was taking care of Remy, he looked at the baby in his arms. Entranced, he stared into the black on red eyes. A soft gurgle left the baby's lips and Scott smiled affectionately. "Oh my, you're a charmer..." The baby's eyes had completely captivated him and only now he heard Essex's voice, telling him to hurry up and help him.

 

After wrapping the thick towel closely around the baby, he walked toward Warren, who had collapsed on a chair. "Here, take good care of..." Him? Her? I don't even know if it's a boy or a girl...

 

"Summers, I need your help, now!" Essex had already hooked Remy up to life support and was now busy examining the extent of his son's injuries. "You need to assist me during surgery!"

 

Scott quickly joined Essex, leaving his child in Warren's care. Looking at Essex, he gasped. "What happened to you?" The moustache and beard were gone and Essex looked ten years younger.

 

"Apocalypse happened, but we don't have time for this. I want my son back." Preparing for surgery, he stared hard at Scott. "We're going to bring Remy back..."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Despite the pain in his chest, Warren smiled at the baby. Getting used to the black on red eyes would take some time, but the baby was adorable. "Hey, we were really worried about you..." Realizing that Scott and Remy had never picked a name, he briefly lifted the towel. "Ah, a little boy...." The baby's big eyes locked with his and something tugged at his mind. After living with telepaths for years, he quickly identified the sensation. "And a telepath as well. Scott and Remy sure got their work cut out for them."

 

Ah, fuck, Remy... Ignoring his bruised ribs, he listened to Scott and Essex's concerned voices. Please, let Remy pull through.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Essex had closed Remy's wound as quickly as possible and replaced the precious blood his son had lost. Remy was still on life support, still not breathing independently. Scott's trembling hands found Remy's, and almost got tangled up in the IV lines. "Careful," he said softly, lifting the IV line so Scott could hold Remy's hand tightly.

 

Scott moistened his lips. His mouth had gone dry and he was scared to ask Essex how Remy was doing. His lover wasn't even breathing on his own! Looking at Remy's naked chest, he cringed. Essex had put in a large number of stitches in order to give him a chance at life.

 

"He's strong. Remy's a fighter," Essex said, reassuringly. He covered Remy's body with a sheet and tucked it loosely around his son's form. While helping Remy to get more comfortable, his hands encountered several pieces of paper in his son's pocket. "What's this?" Scott wasn't paying him any attention; the other man was too focused on his lover. He unfolded the sheets of paper and quickly realized Scott was the one who was supposed to read them, but he couldn't stop himself and devoured every word.

 

Finally, after long minutes, Scott realized that Essex wasn't talking anymore. Essex looked at least ten years younger and the changed appearance still threw him off, but then he noticed the paper. "What's that?"

 

"You should read this." Essex handed Scott the letters and checked his son's readings one more time. If everything went according to plan Remy should be able to breathe on his own when he took him off the ventilator. There was definitely brain activity and that fact reassured him that Remy would find a way back to them. "I'll leave you alone now. I still need to check on Warren and the baby."

 

"Oh, my God," Scott stuttered. "The baby!" He'd completely forgotten about the baby! Feeling terribly guilty, he almost jumped to his feet, but Essex's hand settled onto his shoulder and kept him in place. "Stay with Remy. I'll bring the baby to you... Maybe having the child close will urge Remy to come back to us."

 

Scott nodded his head, but he didn't feel any less guilty. "Remy's going to be okay? Really?"

 

"Yes," Essex promised. "Read the letters..."

 

Still suffering from emotional shock, Scott started reading, while caressing his lover's fingers.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Warren was on the brink of losing consciousness when Essex finally joined him. The winged X-Man was tightly holding the baby and the child had closed his eyes, dozing peacefully. Essex leaned in closer and tried to pry the baby from Warren's arms, but the younger man's eyes flashed open, ready to defend his helpless charge. "It's ok, I need to examine the baby."

 

Warren almost protested, but his lungs contracted and refused to draw in any oxygen. Essex quickly realized what was going on and took charge. After lifting the baby and putting him in his arms, he steered a stumbling Warren to another exam room in his lab. "Don't lie down. That will make breathing even harder on your lungs." He had placed the baby, who was soundly asleep, in a large chair and made sure it was cradled by soft sheets. As he concentrated on Warren, he realized that he first had to establish the extent of the damage, which Apocalypse had done, but first... "Can you hold on a little longer? I want to take the baby to Scott."

 

"Sure, I understand that Scott wants to see his son." Warren's eyes closed again; the pain was excruciating.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Essex cradled the baby boy against his chest and remained standing in the doorway, looking at Scott and Remy. Scott had a tight hold on Remy's right hand. He had brought Remy's hand to his chest and was now kissing the knuckles. I never believed Summers could love anyone except Jean Grey. Maybe I was wrong... I can feel his love for my son... Damn empathy.

 

Scott didn't seem to notice his arrival so he cleared his throat, trying to draw the other man's attention. Finally, Scott looked up. "This is your son." Gently, he placed the baby in Scott's arms.

 

"My son? I've got a son?" Scott stared at the baby, recalling the black on red eyes. "Oh, Remy... I don't want to lose you. Our son needs you... We'll call him Benjamin, Benny, just as you wanted. He needs you, Remy." Tears flowed from beneath the visor and he left his chair, stretching out next to Remy, carefully staying clear of his lover's injuries. "Remy, Benny needs you... I need you, please... Don't let Apocalypse win." He placed the baby in Remy's arms, hoping their son's presence would help Remy to find the way back to them. "Remy, you have no idea how much I love you... Please..."

 

Essex lifted his right hand and was stunned to discover the wetness on his face. I can't be crying... I haven't cried in decades... Then, suddenly, Warren's agony brushed the edges of his mind and he wiped away his tears. He had done all he could for his son. Now Scott's love had to pull Remy back. Turning around, he headed for Warren.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Warren had wrapped his arms around his waist, trying to alleviate some of the pressure on his ribs. Although his injuries weren't that severe, it was the emotional pain that consumed him. Apocalypse had transformed him into Death against his will, had given him metal wings and blue skin, things which he had never wanted. Now his feathers were back, but the blue skin was a constant reminder of his past. Facing Apocalypse had brought back a lot of suppressed memories, which had refused to surface before. He vividly recalled the pain, which he had suffered when the metal wings had sprung from his shoulder blades.

 

"First, we'll establish whether your ribs are broken or only bruised." Essex continued to talk while scanning his new patient. "I'll need to bandage them and you might want to stay off your feet for a few days. I can also give you something against the pain." A lifetime ago he had been a physician, whose goal in life had been easing his patients' agony... but then Adam had died and Apocalypse had appeared. A part of him, the empathic part, still remembered how to reassure his patient. "You saved my life."

 

Warren wanted to shrug it off, but didn't move, knowing the pain would increase if he did. "I couldn't let Apocalypse have you." I know what the bastard's capable of...

 

Essex studied an x-ray of Warren's chest. "No broken ribs," he said, pleased. "But your bruised ribs require support nonetheless. I'll bandage them."

 

Warren's eyes followed Essex as the other man gathered some bandages. "I don't understand you."

 

"I'd be surprised if you did," Essex admitted, while helping Warren into a sitting position. "Sit still." Skillfully, he bandaged the bruised ribs. "You're lucky he didn't do more damage."

 

"He was with playing us," Warren whispered. He bit his bottom lip to prevent a pain filled moan from leaving his lips. This is Sinister. No matter what he looks like you can't trust him! He used Remy to gather the Marauders, who... who injured my wings...

 

Essex picked up on the sudden shift in Warren's feelings. The other man suddenly radiated unease. "You don't trust me... I don't blame you. I wouldn't trust me if I were you either." He had finished applying the bandages and lowered Warren back into the pillows that supported him.

 

Tired, Warren answered Essex's gaze. "It's... hard to explain. I know you’ve changed, otherwise you wouldn't have helped Remy, but... you're still Sinister."

 

No, Sinister is gone. But he realized that Warren didn't see it that way. But he could try to make the other man understand. He pulled up a chair toward the exam bed and sat down, calmly returning Warren's glance. "Mister Sinister was Apocalypse's... creation. Yes, I know I'm to blame for his creation, but... Pain and guilt consumed me. I had just lost by firstborn and Adam... I loved him. I lost my mind and agreed to the pact... My wife tried to stop me, but I never listened to Rebecca. Now, I wish I had listened to her..."

 

Curiously, Warren listened. He had never known the person behind Sinister. Essex had feelings, had loved his son, and regretted making those horrible mistakes. "You loved your son."

 

Saddened, Essex nodded his head. "After losing Adam, nothing mattered, but then something unexpected happened... Remy brought back my feelings. And now my empathy's back..."

 

"Empathy?" Warren blinked. Of course, that's why he was able to connect to Remy when he was suffering from Scott's depression and later when Creed's instincts controlled him... "Are you also a telepath?"

 

Essex shook his head. "I used to be one... Mister Sinister was. I don't know what powers Apocalypse took back. My armor is gone... and so is my ability to launch blasts. But the one thing I can't understand is why he changed my age..."

 

Warren considered the question. "Magneto was once reduced to a child. Maybe that was Apocalypse's game plan as well, but I stopped him before he could carry out his plan. Me flying you out of there wasn't something Apocalypse expected."

 

"That's possible... But I'm not going back to find out. I'll just have to adapt to these new conditions..." He smiled. He felt strong, young and energetic. Maybe it was time to make a new start? To try again? Hesitantly, he raised his eyes and smiled. "I don't think I ever properly introduced myself. I'm Nathaniel...No, Nathan." That name suited him best. He didn't feel like Nathaniel anymore. That man had died when Adam had stopped breathing.

 

Warren searched the other man's eyes. I don't know what to make of you. Only a few months ago you were our enemy and now you're trying to be a friend. I don't know Nathaniel Essex... I only knew Mister Sinister... and I have no idea who you are now... Nathan... The X-Men had taken him in after Rogue had helped him regain his memories. They had never judged him for this dark period in his life. I don't have the right to judge you either... The X-Men gave me another chance... I guess you deserve one as well.

 

Nathan sensed the acceptance in Warren's mind and watched the other man's eyes close. The bruised ribs were causing Warren pain and he got to his feet and retrieved a painkiller. "This will help you deal with the pain."

 

Warren started to shake his head, but then stopped. "Okay." Making the decision to trust Nathan, he closed his eyes and felt the needle slip beneath his skin. Had he made a mistake in trusting the other man? He hoped not. A few seconds later, a warm sensation rushed through his veins, taking away most of the pain. "I'm tired."

 

"That's normal. The painkiller is also a mild sedative. You should give in to sleep."

 

Keep an eye on Remy? And the baby?

 

Picking up on Warren's thoughts, he flinched. It looked like he still had some telepathic qualities. "Don't worry. I'll look after them."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Emotionally wrung out, Scott caressed Remy's face. The baby was situated between them and his big eyes were focused on Remy. "Come on, Remy, he needs you."

 

"He'll come back when he's ready," Nathan said, entering the room. "Have faith in him. Right now Remy's still too weak; he's gathering his strength."

 

"Can't we take him off the ventilator, or do you think he can't breathe on his own yet?" Scott cradled Benny against his chest. "I can't imagine raising Benny without Remy. Just look at his eyes!"

 

Nathan glanced at the baby and understood. "Like father like son." He proceeded to free Remy from the ventilator and both men endured a few tense moments when Remy had to breathe on his own.

 

"Breathe damn it!" Scott wanted to shake Remy back to consciousness, but controlled his fears. Remy's chest moved, his lips quavered and he drew in a shaky breath. "Yes!" Scott watched his lover closely and after a few minutes was reassured that Remy was going to be all right. "Now what?" Questioningly, he looked at Essex. "Shouldn't we take him back to Westchester? Hank can monitor him closely."

 

"He's not fit for transport yet. He's not stable yet. Maybe in a few days." He walked over to the doorway, realizing Scott needed some privacy. "I'll know if he grows worse... I'll stay close." The link was still there, connecting him to his son. He left the room, hoping Remy would wake up shortly.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

He drifted in darkness. Every now and then a memory surprised him and he found himself staring in to the Antiquary's eyes... Then the old man's face changed into Sinister's, became Apocalypse and even Rogue floated in the dark mud of memories. Desperately, he tried to find something to hold on to. He couldn't find the way out of this labyrinth; he needed guidance! Unexpectedly, a soft voice called out to him.

 

"Come on, Remy, he needs you."

 

That voice was awfully familiar; if only he could identify it! The voice continued to pull him closer, further away from the darkness. Scott! It's Scott! How could I forget 'bout Scott? Mon Dieu... he's here, he came for me! Ai, what 'bout de baby? Li'l one, are you bien? The presence was still close, but felt incredibly weak. Li'l one, don' give up...

 

"Remy, I love you. Please open your eyes and look at me?" Scott had been talking nonstop for the last hour and he had the impression that Remy's breathing had quickened. His lover's mind felt like a whirlwind, but was slowing down. Was he finally getting through to Remy? "Come on, open your eyes for me."

 

Unable to deny his lover, Remy's eyes slowly opened. Unfocused, he stared at the blurry form in front of him. His vocal chords refused to work and he used telepathy instead. Scott? Cher? Is dat really you? Are you really here?

 

Scott released a trembling sigh. "Fuck, Remy, you scared the hell out of me!" In disbelief, he stared at the weak smile on his lover's face.

 

Sorry, cher... Didn' do it on purpose... What happened? His eyes finally focused and his breath caught, realizing Scott was this close.

 

"We got you back..." He moistened his lips and lifted Benny, making sure Remy saw their son. "Remy, this is Benny... Our son."

 

Benny? Enthralled, Remy stared at the baby, who was making pleased noises. Tiny hands reached for him and involuntarily he counted the little fingers. Dere are ten of dem.

 

"Yeah, all ten of them." Scott carefully placed Benny in Remy's arms, staying clear of his lover's injuries. "I love his eyes..."

 

Remy swallowed hard. Black on red... Didn' know dat would happen. Benny's tiny fingers had wrapped themselves around his ring finger and the baby made a giggling sound, obviously pleased with all the attention he was getting. Remy suddenly averted his eyes. Sorry, cher... Didn' wanna go behind your back. You okay wit' dis, or...? Dark Beast had kidnapped him before Scott had been able to give him an answer.

 

"I love Benny, Remy. And I love you. You gave me the greatest gift you could ever give me." Leaning in closer, he placed a chaste kiss on his lover's brow. "I'm sorry we couldn't enjoy your pregnancy... Dark Beast took that away from us, but we've got a wonderful son now..."

 

Tiredly, Remy smiled, finally attempting speech. "How did you get me 'way from dem?"

 

"Your father helped."

 

"Jean-Luc's here?" Remy looked about, searching for the Cajun.

 

"No, Essex helped."

 

"Essex?" Confused, Remy locked eyes with Scott. "Essex helped?"

 

"And so did Warren. They distracted Apocalypse while I got you out."

 

"And Warren?" Maybe he should deal with this later. He was too tired to wonder why Warren would help. "Stay close, cher?"

 

"For the rest of my life," Scott vowed.

 

Benny cooed, smiled, and grabbed Remy's finger tighter. "Mon Dieu, petit..." Remy kissed his son's soft hands, and suddenly realized how lucky he was to have his son in his arms. Scott's lips brushed his forehead and he smiled contently. He had finally found his family...

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Twenty-four hours later both patients were feeling better. Nathan was checking on Warren and nodded his head approvingly. "Rest for another few days and your ribs should heal quickly."

 

Warren caught Nathan's glance. "What are you going to do once Remy's fit to return to the mansion? Stay here on your own, or...?"

 

"Or what?" Nathan leaned back against the wall. "I don't have much of a choice. Where else could I go?"

 

"You could come to the mansion with us. I'm sure Remy would be thrilled to spend more time with you... now that you're no longer Sinister."

 

"I don't know about that." Nathan shrugged his shoulders. "I doubt I'd feel welcome there."

 

"You could always give it a shot. You won't know until you’ve tried."

 

Nathan still wasn't sure. He would love to be close to Remy and Benny, but... "It's a bad idea." Considering this topic closed, he asked, "How's the pain?"

 

"I can deal with it. I felt worse when I realized what Apocalypse had done to me; turning me into Death."

 

Yes, we both have a reason to hate Apocalypse, but I made the pact willingly... "I need to check on Remy," Nathan announced, uncertain why he felt connected to Warren.

 

"Sure." Puzzled, Warren watched the other man leave. Something had happened just now, something that completely eluded him... What?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Merde, cher..." His abdomen hurt. He had winced seeing the stitches, figuring they would leave a ugly scar behind. Mais I gladly pay de price for havin' Benny. He still couldn't believe that Scott, Warren and Essex had defied Apocalypse in order to get him back. He still had to thank Warren for coming after him, but he was confined to bed and Scott made sure he stayed off his feet. Benny was amazing. The baby's black on red eyes could captivate him for hours and he caught himself counting his toes and fingers repeatedly. Had he ever been happier in his life? Scott never left his side. At first, he had been worried that Scott was still mad at him for going behind his back, but his lover absolutely adored Benny and he couldn't find a single trace of anger in Scott's mind. Everything was working out!

 

"Hey, Remy, wouldn't you prefer staying at Hank's lab instead of here?" Scott caught the tremors that suddenly shook Remy's hand. "What is it?"

 

No, don' wanna be at his lab. Dark Beast...

 

Suddenly, Scott understood. Seeing Hank would constantly remind Remy of being at Dark Beast's mercy. Maybe they should stay here a little longer, at least until Remy felt stronger. "Sure, Remy, we'll stay." Remy's relieved sigh only confirmed his suspicions. "Benny's cute..." He hoped Remy would forget his fears and concentrate on their child instead.

 

"I do wonder 'bout de eyes, cher." Remy cocked his head and looked at Benny, who was resting beside him. He longed to hold him, but his injuries didn't allow that yet. His fingers caressed the baby's soft skin. "Can' believe he's our son, cher. I expected to be pregnant wit' him for several mont's... I can' believe he's here already."

 

"He's healthy," Scott said reassuringly. "Nathan examined him."

 

"Nat'an..." Remy grew quiet. It was amazing how easily Scott and Warren had accepted his father's presence. He had gulped himself, finding Apocalypse had made his father younger. And now he didn't have to worry anymore about Essex morphing into Sinister. His father no longer possessed Sinister's powers. He should definitely discuss all recent events in depth with his father, but Scott never left his side. "Cher?"

 

"What?" Scott had been lost in thought, staring into his son's eyes.

 

"I was t'inkin', and it's okay for you to say non... What if we asked Nat'an to come to de mansion wit' us?" He held his breath, uncertain how Scott would react.

 

Scott locked eyes with his lover. "Even Warren suggested that."

 

Remy raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

 

"Yeah... I'm not sure how I think about this, but it's worth a shot... and he is your father."

 

"What 'bout de ot'ers? Would de professor be okay wit' dis?"

 

"I think so, Remy. Charles believes in second chances. He wouldn't turn anyone away."

 

"Cher..." Remy suddenly remembered something. "Creed's in one of de tanks... Mebbe Charles will give him anot'er chance as well?"

 

"What? Creed's here?"

 

"Don' worry, cher. He's confined to his tank... Please, cher? I can feel him, feel his solitude... Mebbe Charles finds a way to help him?"

 

"I can't believe you're pleading on his behalf after what that bastard did to you." But Remy wouldn't be Remy if he didn't consider other people's needs as well as his own. "I'll talk to Nathan about it."

 

"About what?" Nathan entered the room and his eyes immediately traveled to the baby's. Briefly, he recalled holding Adam in his arms after his son had been born. He had never felt so much love for another being, not even Rebecca.

 

Remy shifted in the bed and repressed a moan. "You comin' to de mansion wit' us. What’s keepin’ you here?"

 

Nathan allowed a grin to break through. "I just had this conversation with Warren."

 

"You're my fat'er, de baby's grandfat'er... You're supposed to be close," Remy reasoned.

 

"What about the other X-Men?" Nathan walked toward the bed and offered Benny a finger. The baby grabbed it and pulled at it.

 

Remy smiled. "Benny likes you... And I don' care 'bout de ot'ers... We could stay at de boathouse... We would have some privacy dere."

 

Scott nodded his head. He didn't intend on sharing his happiness with the others twenty-four seven. He wanted some privacy. "The boathouse sounds great."

 

Enthusiastically, Remy tried to sit upright, but he had to abandon the effort. The pain was too much. He had refused painkillers, not wanting the meds to cloud his thoughts. "Even Scott agrees!"

 

"I'll think it over," Nathan promised. "But I came here to check on you. How are you doing today, Remy?"

 

"Except for de pain?" Remy smiled. "Jus' bien..." Benny cooed, trying to pull Nathan's finger closer. "I always t'ought babies cried nonstop, mais Benny..."

 

Scott agreed. Benny hadn't cried at all. "Maybe it's because he knows we love him, being a telepath... Do you think he's also an empath?"

 

"Don' know, cher... mais anyt'ing's possible." Remy let Nathan conduct his tests. His father even took a blood sample. "So, will I live?"

 

"Yes." Nathan returned the smile. "But you should rest now."

 

"One more thing..." Scott got to his feet and approached Nathan. "Can we talk in private?"

 

Surprised, Nathan nodded his head.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"It would mean a lot to Remy to have you close and you're welcome to stay at the boathouse," Scott assured the other man.

 

"I understand that. I even sense his desire to make me stay, but... there's so much going on in my life right now. I'm feeling things I didn't feel for ages..."

 

"Let Remy help." Scott searched for the right words. "He helped me see the truth. I denied I loved him because I felt dating Remy was wrong, that I should remain faithful to Jean."

 

"This is different. I haven't been human for so long..." Nathan looked around. The lab didn't hold his interest anymore.

 

"You can always leave Westchester..." Scott wondered how to bring up Creed. Remy's request to help the bastard had surprised even him. "And maybe Charles will find a way to help Creed as well."

 

Nathan chuckled. "Remy told you..."

 

"You have changed... Maybe Creed can change as well."

 

Nathan sighed. "We'll see what happens when Remy's strong enough to return to Westchester. I need that time to think about this."

 

"Sure," Scott said, eager to return to his lover's side. "I'll be with Remy in case you need to talk to me."

 

Nathan watched him leave, wondering what to do next.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Remy quavered as Scott finally placed Benny in his arms. During these last three days his injuries had begun to heal and the pain had grown slightly less. "Salut, petit..." Benny cooed, raised his arms and tried to reach for his face. Remy smiled and cradled his son against his chest. A wave of intense emotions suddenly swept through him; joy, contentment and curiosity. "Cher? Benny might be an empath too."

 

"That's just great," Scott said, jokingly. "Now I have two empaths on my hands." Sitting on the side of Remy's bed, he watched them closely. He didn't know if it was the eyes, or the way Remy and Benny interacted, but they seemed whole, together like this. He knew with certainty that he had been granted something special, a very special love. He remained silent, giving Remy the time to enjoy holding their son for the very first time. Later today they would return to Westchester, using one of Nathan's tesseracts. He had already contacted Hank to update him. Hank also knew about Dark Beast and had promised to act cautiously around Remy. I wonder how I'm going to explain Benny to the others? Yeah, Hank knows about the pregnancy, but the others don't.

 

"Cher?"

 

"Just thinking..." Scott said, reassuringly. "Bobby's at the boathouse right now, stocking the shelves and making sure we'll be comfortable there."

 

"Do dey know 'bout... Benny?"

 

"Only Hank knows..." Scott shifted on the bed, leaned in closer and tugged a stray look behind Remy's ear. "Are you sure you're up to going home?"

 

Remy nodded his head. "Is Nat'an comin' wit' us?"

 

"I haven't brought it up yet. He said he needed to think everything over."

 

"Cher, what do you t'ink he'll do?" During these last few days Nathan had turned out to be a caring father and grandfather and he didn't want to give this up yet.

 

"I think he'll accept." At least, Scott hoped so.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Bored, Warren decided to leave his room in search of Nathan. He had grown used to the nagging pain in his chest and the bandages supported the bruised ribs, allowing him to move about on his own. Most of the time he followed Nathan's advice though, staying off his feet and resting. But being alone was getting to him and he needed some company. He had spoken to Remy and Scott and they had assured him that they were fine. Benny had smiled at him, and he had realized he already had a soft spot for the little guy.

 

Walking the corridors, he wondered where he was headed. A light at the end of the corridor guided him. The door was open and he stepped inside. Apparently, these were Nathan's quarters and he found the other man asleep in a chair. "That can't be comfortable." Looking about, he found that the room lacked a bed. "Sinister probably didn't need any sleep." But Nathan did. "Hey, wake up. Your back and neck's gonna kill you if you keep this up."

 

Nathan's eyes flashed open as he startled awake. "What?" Confused, he looked about.

 

"You fell asleep." Warren felt nervous, standing there. What the hell was going on with him? "Don't you have a bed?"

 

Nathan blinked. "A bed? I fell asleep? I haven't slept for..."

 

"Ages..." Warren finished, amused. "You're human again, remember? A bed is a necessity."

 

Nathan stretched carefully. His neck protested painfully and his back felt stiff. "I forget about that..." Slowly, he got to his feet. "I'm still getting used to this. When I was Sinister I didn't need to sleep, or eat."

 

Warren slowly lowered himself into the chair Nathan had just vacated. He still felt wobbly on his feet. "Are you coming with us or are you gonna stay here?"

 

The question surprised him. "You seem eager for me to accept the invitation... why? I was Sinister once."

 

Warren flinched involuntarily. "I got a second chance... You deserve one as well. You told me you accepted Apocalypse's offer because you were hurting after Adam's death... He played you, you know that, don't you?"

 

"I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I knew what I was getting myself into." That was only half-true, but he refused to see himself as a victim. "But I'll stay with Remy for a few more days. Then I'll probably leave Westchester."

 

Warren nodded his head. "I'm glad you decided to stay with Remy a little longer." And why did he feel glad that Nathan had accepted the offer? Why do I want him to stay? Looking at Nathan, he saw a dark-haired man with intelligent eyes, who was about his own age. It was hard to keep in mind that this man had once been Sinister... Things had changed... He was changing...

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Things had changed... He was changing... He had been Nathaniel Essex first, then Mister Sinister and now he didn't really know who he was. But Warren seemed supportive, and whenever the winged X-Man was close, his empathy registered something, some emotion he couldn't identify. Did Warren know he was broadcasting? Had he ever felt this particular emotion before? He had to be careful not to broadcast his own emotions in return. Yawning, he studied the other man. Warren's right arm was wrapped around his chest, supporting his bruised ribs. What was that emotion?

 

"Is something wrong?" Warren felt uneasy, being studied like that.

 

"I don't know... I'm still getting used to being an empath."

 

Warren swallowed hard, realizing he should shield his emotions as well as his thoughts, but it was a little late to remember that. His eyes were glued to Nathan's and suddenly he felt the urge to run away and never talk to Nathan again. The burning sensation in the pit of his stomach intensified and it traveled straight to his groin. His eyes almost popped out of their sockets, realizing he was growing hard. "I've got to go now!" He almost jumped to his feet, repressed the pain in his chest and headed for the doorway.

 

Nathan watched him flee the room. His brow grew knitted as Warren's feelings touched his mind. Outwardly, he didn't react to the sudden revelation, but inwardly, he felt confused. He's attracted to me? To me? How can that be? He had always been attracted to men and had only married Rebecca because he wanted children. Oh, he had loved Rebecca in his own way, but she couldn't give him the things he wanted in life. And now Warren felt attracted to him? I should reconsider my decision. Accompanying them to Westchester is a bad idea... But Warren... Did he return Warren's feelings? He always felt something when he was close to the other man, but what was that something?

 

I don't need this complicating my life right now... He returned to the chair, collapsed on it and massaged his temples. When had his life become a mess?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Scott shifted in the chair, instinctively tightening his hold on the baby. Baby? What's Benny doing in my arms? His eyes flashed open. When he had settled down in the chair, Remy and Benny had been asleep in the bed. Looking about, he realized Remy had left the room. Damn it, Remy! You're still confined to bed! Where did you go this time?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

His hand was steady as he pushed the button that would reveal Creed to him. The metal doors slid aside and Creed immediately looked at him. Shivers ran down his spine, seeing the expression in the other man's eyes. He almost reconsidered, but he was determined to do the right thing. Opening his shields, he cautiously probed Creed's thoughts.

 

LeBeau, what are you doin' here?

 

Remy licked his lips. You called me here...

 

I didn't, Creed insisted. But now that you're here... Why did you help me? Why did you ask Sinister to stop the electric shocks?

 

Cause you were hurtin'...

 

Creed's eyes narrowed. I might have underestimated you... You ain't just a telepath... You're empath too?

 

Remy nodded his head. As long as the tank kept Creed at bay, he felt safe talking to the other mutant.

 

So why are you back now? Floating in the cold water, his eyes remained locked with his visitor's.

 

To let you know dat I wanna honor your agreement wit' de professor. He promised to work wit' you on controllin' your instincts. De X-Men keep deir promises. We'll try to help you. Remy wanted to return to his room to take his son in his arms again, but he had to do this first. What did you hope to archive by kidnappin' me? I don' know how to work my telepat'y... Why not take de professor or Betsy? Why me?

 

We got a history together, Creed explained. He had never thought of kidnapping someone else. Why are you doin' this for me?

 

I believe in second chances...

 

"Remy, you shouldn't be here." Nathan had felt Remy's emotional turmoil and followed their link, which had brought him here. "You should be resting." He pushed the button again and the metal doors slipped in place, burying Creed in darkness again.

 

"You'll let us try to help him, won' you? I'm sure de professor can help him."

 

"Your professor can try," Nathan promised. "But I'm taking you back to your room now. Scott will be worried when he finds you gone."

 

Remy allowed his father to support him as they made their way back to his room. "I feel like I'm livin' in a dream," he admitted. "You always were my nemesis and now... now you're my fat'er..."

 

Nathan nodded his head. "I know the feeling."

 

"Remy! Where the hell did you go?" Relieved at having found his lover, Scott hurried toward Remy. Benny was crying softly, but the sobbing stopped once Remy was close again.

 

Remy smiled affectionately and allowed Benny to grab his fingers. "Sorry, petit." Looking up at Scott he felt his lover's concern. "I had to talk to Creed."

 

"Creed?" Scott sighed, exasperated. "Why didn't you tell me? I don't want you to be alone with that maniac."

 

"I was there with him," Nathan said, telling a little white lie. Remy had been alone with Creed for some minutes before he had joined them. "Remy's fine."

 

Scott decided to let it go, for now. "Come on, lie down." He guided Remy back to his bed and watched Nathan help his lover lie down. "When are we leaving?"

 

"You'll leave within the hour," Nathan replied, checking his son's wound. He hoped that Remy hadn't pulled any stitches. Fortunately, everything was fine.

 

"Nat'an...?" Remy sensed his father's discomfort. "Don' tell me you changed your mind!" He calmed down when Scott placed Benny in his arms.

 

"I can't come with you, Remy. My place is here, not with the X-Men. I wouldn't fit in." He shouldn't be close to Warren right now. He hadn't felt any lust or arousal for decades and being close to Warren was dangerous. Warren was a handsome man and the type he would have fallen for a lifetime ago. Remy's disappointment seeped through his shields. "I'll accompany you to Westchester, but after I made sure that you're well cared for I'll leave."

 

"Can' I change your mind?" Remy felt depressed. He had been sure Nathan would stay with them!

 

"No, Remy. I'd love to stay with you and Benny, but... this isn't the right time." Nathan gently squeezed his son's shoulder. "I've to prepare for your departure. I'll be back in fifty minutes... Try to rest until then."

 

Remy watched his father leave and then turned to Scott. "I really believed he'd stay wit' me..." His old fear was coming back. At some point everyone left him...

 

"I won't leave you, ever," Scott vowed passionately, realizing he would need a lifetime to prove his words to Remy.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Why don't I go first?" Scott hated leaving Remy and their baby alone, even for a few minutes, but he wanted to reassure Hank and anyone else present in the lab that nothing was wrong.

 

"Sure, great leader," Warren teased. His ribs still troubled him, but he already felt a lot better. He stayed close to Remy and away from Nathan, who every now and then seemed to study him. The baby was sound asleep, nestled in Remy's arms. But the Cajun still needed some sort of support and Nathan had folded an arm around his son's waist. "Let them know we're coming."

 

Scott nodded his head and disappeared into the tesseract. After taking two steps, he found himself in Hank's lab. Bobby, Logan and Hank were already waiting for him.

 

"Slim! It's good to see you! What the hell happened?" Bobby hurried toward his friend and gave him a quick hug. "Where's Remy?"

 

"He'll arrive shortly," Scott whispered, realizing he had to prepare them. "But he won't be alone."

 

"Yeah, I know. Warren will be with him."

 

"No, Bobby... Well, actually yes, but..." Scott felt at a loss. "Warren's got bruised ribs, so you've got another patient on your hands, Hank."

 

"I can deal with it." Hank nodded his head.

 

"And... we're bringing a friend. His name's Nathan. He helped us fight Apocalypse." Scott looked at Hank, who knew Nathan's real identity and he decided not to enlighten Logan and Bobby just yet. "And then there's Benny."

 

"Benny?" Bobby wondered about the brilliant smile on Scott's face. "Benny?"

 

"Benny is... our son. Remy and I... We have a son."

 

"A son?" Logan cocked his head. "What ain't you tellin' us?"

 

"Dark Beast conducted some experiments on Remy and the baby... Benny was born a few days ago. Remy was only pregnant for a short time." Scott cringed. They had agreed to this version of his pregnancy, not yet bringing up Essex's role in this.

 

Bobby's eyes sparkled. "Benny? Your son? That's... cool!" Excited, he shuffled his feet. "So where are they?"

 

The tesseract spit out Warren, who quickly walked toward them. "My, this is a weird form of traveling." His ribs hurt and he sunk down on a chair. "Hi, Hank... Bobby, Logan..."

 

"Did you see Benny?" Bobby was bouncing with curiosity.

 

"Yeah, he's cute... for a baby." Warren briefly closed his eyes, trying to deal with the pain. Hank's hand descended on his shoulder and McCoy began to examine his teammate.

 

Remy and Nathan exited the tesseract, which closed and disappeared behind them. Both men were nervous, but for different reasons. Benny felt their nervousness, opened his eyes and grabbed hold of Remy's shirt.

 

"Oh..." Bobby slowly approached them, and locked eyes with the baby. "Look at those eyes!" Bobby was smitten, goo-gooing, and gaa-gaaing to attract Benny's attention.

 

Exhausted, Remy's grip on the baby almost slipped. Nathan moved quickly and supported Remy's hold with his hand. "Scott?" Within seconds, Benny was safely in Scott's arms and Nathan led Remy to one of the exam tables. "Why don't you lie down before we head for the boathouse?"

 

Remy nodded weakly, closed his eyes and gave into exhaustion. He never noticed Hank checking him over.

 

Logan had watched everything closely, silently. Something about Nathan's smell was familiar and set off his alarms. "You're staying at the boathouse then?"

 

"Yes," Scott confirmed. "Remy needs rest and he won't get it here." Bobby was still making faces and producing funny noises to entertain the baby. "We already know who gets to baby sit."

 

Bobby grinned. "I'd love to baby sit. My dates always tell me I'm a big kid anyway."

 

Knowing Remy in safe hands, Nathan was tempted to leave, but as he looked up he caught Warren's gaze. The winged X-Man looked drained. Just one hour and then I'm gone...

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Warren refused to acknowledge the nature of the feelings rushing through him. He couldn't be falling for Essex! It was impossible! Was the other man, the empath, manipulating his feelings? But no, Xavier had taught him how to detect an alien presence in his mind and Essex wasn't touching his! Confused, he struggled to his feet. "I'm heading for my room."

 

Hank objected. "I advice against that, my friend. I need to examine you thoroughly and then we will set up a treatment plan."

 

"Forget about it, Hank. I've got some bruised ribs that's it. Don't make a big deal out of this." He swayed as he made his way to the doorway. Bobby moved forward to help him, but suddenly Nathan was already at his side, one hand resting at the small of his back.

 

"I'll walk you to your room," Nathan offered. You're insane! You can't do this! But his feet carried him into the corridor, escorting Warren. They were already on their way to Warren's room.

 

Warren's confusion only increased. "Why are you doing this?" He preferred the direct approach. He was too tired to play games. They had reached his room and he pushed down the door handle. Slowly, he made his way to the bed and collapsed on it.

 

Nathan carefully considered his next move. After closing the door behind him, he remained near the doorway. "You're attracted to me." He liked Warren's directness and preferred being honest in return. "It's the curse of being an empath..."

 

"Curse, huh? It worked out pretty well for Remy and Scott." Warren pushed some pillows behind his back and leaned into the support. "I can't figure you out... and I have no idea why I'm attracted to you."

 

Nathan shrugged his shoulders. "When I was still Nathaniel Essex I had male lovers. Society didn't approve of gay relationships, so I kept that aspect of my personality hidden."

 

"If you like men, then why did you marry Rebecca?" And why am I having this absurd conversation?

 

"I wanted children and I did love Rebecca, in my own way. But there wasn't any real passion, no lust, no craving. She was a very special lady, but my heart never belonged to her."

 

Warren suddenly felt uneasy in Nathan's presence. "Why am I attracted to you? It never happened before." He had only loved women in the past, but... something Nathan had said reminded him of his own relationships. Yes, he had loved Candy, Betsy, every woman he had ever courted he'd had feelings for them... but there had never been any wild passion or consuming lust.

 

"I don't know why," Nathan said, and placed his hand on the door handle, ready to leave. "That's something you have to figure out yourself."

 

"One more question before you leave!" Warren almost got to his feet, but his protesting ribs stopped him. "Where do you stand in this? You're here, so... Are you interested?" God help him, but he didn't know how to phrase it!

 

"Interested in you?" Nathan gave him a thoughtful look. "Maybe... I used to be a passionate lover... But... I don't know if this is the right time to consider these things. You haven't made up your mind yet, which is understandable. I didn't see this coming either."

 

"And you did make up your mind?" Why was he pressuring Nathan like this?

 

Nathan nodded his head. "As I said earlier, yes, I'm interested. But you need to reach a decision first. Let me know once you've made up your mind." Nathan closed the door behind him and headed back to the lab to help Scott move Remy and Benny to the boathouse.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"It's bien bein' back at de boathouse, cher. I didn' mind livin' wit' you at de mansion, mais dis feels way betta." Remy shifted in the bed to gain a more comfortable position. Benny lay contently beside him. Scott had just experienced the first joys of parenthood when he had changed the baby's diaper. Remy had just smiled, enjoying watched his lover pinch his nose shut against the bad smell. "You'd betta get used to it!"

 

Scott had smiled in return. "You'll be pulling your own weight once you're feeling better!"

 

Scott now moved over to the bed, watching his lover and child. "I love you, Remy." Remy blushed. Even after all this time, Scott found it adorable. "What?"

 

Remy's hand moved over his abdomen. "De scar's gonna be ugly, cher."

 

Scott's heart contracted painfully and he leaned in closer to press a kiss on Remy's lips. "Maybe Hank can fix that once the wound is fully healed? And it doesn't matter how many scars you have, Remy. I'll always love you." Remy's watering eyes caused a lump to form in his throat. "Oh, Remy, you're handsome, but I didn't fall in love with your looks. I fell in love with you."

 

Remy managed a weak smile. "Cher, hold me?"

 

Scott moved Benny closer to Remy and then took his lover in his arms. Benny rested safely between them. "What's troubling you?"

 

Remy briefly closed his eyes. He had a promise to keep. "Creed?"

 

"I sent Logan, Bobby and Hank to take him to the lab."

 

"You ain' takin' any chances, sendin' de t'ree of dem."

 

"I don't want Creed to escape and then come after you again." Scott fingered a lock of Remy's hair.

 

"Where's Nat'an?"

 

"He's staying in the guestroom on the second floor."

 

"I'm glad he stayed, cher."

 

"I wonder though..."

 

"What, cher?"

 

"He seems pre-occupied since we came here."

 

"Mebbe he needs to adjust to dis new situation?"

 

"That's probably it," Scott said, reassuringly. "It's time for a nap," he decided. "We didn't get that much sleep these last few days."

 

Remy sighed blissfully. A nap sounded perfect. Benny moved in his arms, and he reached out empathically, reassuring his son. Benny settled down and Remy surrendered to sleep.

 

Scott stayed awake a little longer. "Oh, you have no idea how much I love you, Remy..." A scar didn't make any difference. "I'll always love you."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Nathan sneaked out of the boathouse at midnight. Neither Remy, nor Scott noticed him leave.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Apocalypse hovered above him, mocking him, laughing at his pleas and pain. "Don't... Please don't!"

 

"You wanted your wings back... Does it matter if they are made of feathers or metal?" Apocalypse laughed triumphantly and dragged his victim over to a metal wall, which reflected their forms. "Look! Look at yourself. You're my Horseman, you're Death! There's only one thing left to do. I need to make sure you won't turn on me... I'll rip your soul apart..."

 

"No!" Warren thrashed on the bed. Although his chest hurt like crazy, he didn't pay it any attention. He had to get away from Apocalypse. "No, I don't want this! I don't want to be Death! I'm Warren Worthington, Angel... not Death!"

 

Wake up, Warren. You're having a nightmare. Apocalypse isn't here. Your dreams are keeping him alive. Wake up.

 

I can't! I can't! This is real, this is no dream! The pain is real! My back... My shoulder blades... The metal wings, my blue skin... They're real.

 

Listen to me, Warren. You're having a bad dream. You're giving Apocalypse power over you, but you can also take it away from him. Listen to my voice. Concentrate on it. You were dreaming, but now you're waking up. Just trust me. I'm telling you the truth. I know nightmares can be horrific, especially when Apocalypse is in them, but you can beat him...

 

Warren slowly woke up, letting the soothing voice guide him. Opening his eyes, he wondered who had guided him back. "Nathan?" Confused, he stared at the other man, seated on the side of the bed. "How?"

 

Nathan shrugged his shoulders. "I had just gone to bed, which is still an awkward experience after not having to sleep for decades, and I sensed your fears. I didn't know my powers were that strong, but I clearly sensed your panic so I came here. No one else seems to have noticed."

 

"You and Remy are the only empaths or telepaths around," Warren explained. "But that doesn't explain why you're here. You could have called Hank or... turned over and gone back to sleep."

 

Nathan shook his head. "No, I couldn't. Do you remember finding me asleep on that chair?" Warren nodded his head and he continued. "Before you woke me up I had a nightmare... Apocalypse was slicing Remy in to tiny pieces right in front of me. It's been so long since I had a nightmare that I had forgotten how real they can be. If I had still had my powers I might have blown something up in an effort to defend Remy."

 

"Why are you here?" Warren pushed on. He pulled the comforter up to his chin and only then realized Nathan was shivering. "Want a morning robe?"

 

"Why I'm here?" He raised a puzzled eyebrow, ignoring Warren's offer. "Why do you think I'm here?"

 

"My nightmares kept you from sleeping peacefully?" Warren wasn't sure what was going on, but his body was definitely reacting to Nathan's presence; he was growing aroused. "I just can't figure it out..."

 

Nathan understood. "I don't know either why I'm attracted to you..."

 

"I think, I..." Warren's voice trailed off. He couldn't say the words just yet. "You'd be warmer beneath the comforter."

 

"Are you sure?" Nathan knew what that invitation was really about. "Do you know what you're getting yourself into?"

 

"No, do you?"

 

Nathan laughed softly. "You're right... I don't know it either... but I'll be damned if I won't accept that invitation." Quickly, he slipped beneath the comforter. Finding Warren moving away from him, he stopped the other man. "Say the words and I'll leave."

 

"No, this is okay... It's just..."

 

"You're hard."

 

Shyly, Warren nodded his head.

 

"So am I." Nathan decided to take control before things got uncomfortable. "Move over a little."

 

Warren allowed Nathan to manhandle him into the desired position and suddenly found himself in the other man's arms.

 

"And now you're going back to sleep."

 

Now that was unexpected. "Sleep?"

 

"Yes, you're still healing. We're not taking this any further until you have made a complete recovery."

 

Warren smiled contently. Maybe he had made the right decision after all. Feeling safe and warm, he dozed off again.

 

Nathan breathed in Warren's scent and his hands caressed the soft, white feathers. I'd better come up with a way to explain this to Remy... But he wasn't really worried about Remy's reaction. Remy's empathy would tell him he was serious about this relationship with Warren. So many things have happened these last few months... and I'm grateful they happened... really grateful. Lured closer by Warren's peaceful sleep, he fell asleep as well.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Remy smiled, staring at Benny, who had grabbed his thumb and was now sucking it softly. Petit, je t'aime... Can' believe I can be dis lucky. I got you and Scott. I didn' do dat bad for a t'ief...

 

Remy, stop thinking and go to sleep...

 

Cher, I t'ought you were 'sleep!

 

I was... Until you woke me up... And you've got it all wrong. I'm the happiest man alive for having you and Benny... Scott tightened his hold on his lover. You're my soul mate, Remy... My world. Don't ever forget that.

 

I won', Remy promised, contently. Snuggling up to Scott, he curled his fingers around Benny's tiny hand and felt perfectly happy. His family was complete.

 

 

The end

April 2002


	6. Nine Months

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would things have been like if Remy had gotten pregnant?  
> (Alternative ending.)

Nine months.

 

 

Peanut butter

A loud bang woke Scott and immediately he reached for his lover. Remy was nine months pregnant and really, although he loved him dearly, he was counting the days until the delivery. Living together had become hell. "What are you up to this time?"

 

Tired, Scott left the bed and draped a morning robe over his shoulders. The loud bangs originated from the kitchen and Scott shuddered involuntarily. What was it this time?

 

"Remy?" Stepping into the kitchen, he hid his smile just in time. Remy's mood swings were unpredictable and he didn't want to set off his lover because of an amused smile. Remy was sitting on the kitchen floor, surrounded by open jars, shredded packages and a box of cornflakes. "Remy? What are you doing? It's the middle of the night." But he already knew what was going on. Remy was craving a particular food item and...

 

"We're outta peanut butta..." Remy complained. "Why don' we have any peanut butta? I want some! If you love me, you'll get me some peanut butta...!" Waving his arms, he reached for Scott, who now sat on his heels beside him. "Sorry, cher... need peanut butta. De li'l one wants it."

 

Scott still hid his grin. Although Remy was a man, mood swings, food cravings and aches, had hit him just as hard as it did women. "If you want peanut butter, you'll get it. I'll drive over to the mansion and see if they have some."

 

"Non! You can' leave me 'lone! You've gotta stay!" Remy whimpered softly. His hand came to rest beneath his belly, supporting it. "Stop kickin' me! De baby's kickin' me..." Tears suddenly streamed down his cheeks. "I can' do dis anymore. You did dis to me!"

 

Scott allowed for a tiny smile to break through on his face. They had had this argument before. "Why don't you stay here while I give Bobby a call so he can check for the peanut butter?" He had lost count of the times that he had woken Bobby in the middle of the night because Remy was craving food. Remy nodded weakly and he quickly made the call.

 

"Bobby? I need your help."

 

Bobby yawned, stretched and yawned again. He had been expecting Scott to call. Remy was due in one week and getting crankier. "What does he want this time?"

 

"Peanut butter," Scott whispered, keeping an eye on his lover from the living room. They had retreated to the boathouse two months ago when Remy's condition had become clearly visible to everyone. Some team members hadn't hidden their disapproval and he had deemed it wiser to remove Remy from the mansion. And I love living here with him...

 

"Peanut butter? That shouldn't be a problem. I'll be with you in five."

 

"Thanks, Bobby."

 

"No problem, man..." Bobby got to his feet and slipped into some jeans and sweats. After saying good-bye to Scott on the phone, he moved downstairs to collect the peanut butter.

 

***

 

Back at the boathouse, Remy was drying his tears. "Cher, hate bein' dis emotional..."

 

Scott dropped the phone onto the couch and joined his lover on the kitchen floor. He wrapped his arms around Remy and rocked him slowly. "One more week, Remy, and then Hank and Nathan will perform the caesarian section... Our baby will be born in one week. You've got to hold onto that."

 

Remy nodded against his shoulder. "Why did I do dis?" At the time, carrying Scott's child had seemed a good idea, but now? "Cher, can' even see my feet anymore... Can' move 'round on my own... I'm fat... Why still want me?"

 

"Oh, Remy..." Scott kissed the top of Remy's head, tucking it beneath his chin. "I know it's been hard on you and I admire you for following through. I couldn't have done it." Remy smiled against his chest and his lover began to calm down. Using the empathic link that connected them, he sent his love and adoration into Remy's mind. "Just one more week, love, and then we'll be holding our child in our arms."

 

"I still want peanut butta..." But this time Remy managed a smile. "Help me to my feet?"

 

Scott almost suggested carrying him back to their bedroom, but Remy was too heavy and he didn't want to risk accidentally dropping his lover. He pulled Remy to his feet and watched his lover's eyes inspect the food items on the floor. "Anything you want?"

 

"De marmalade and some crackers, mais I've gotta have de peanut butta first..." He allowed Scott to lead him back to their room, knowing his lover would collect the items he desired later. "Sorry, I'm bein' a nuisance..."

 

"Remy, you're pregnant and this is perfectly normal behavior," he assured Remy as the Cajun tried to get comfortable in bed.

 

"Cher, stay?"

 

Scott grinned. "I thought you wanted that marmalade and some crackers?"

 

"You ain' fair, cher..." Remy closed his eyes. The little trip to the kitchen had exhausted him. "Hurry up."

 

Scott hurried back to the kitchen, cleaned up the mess and waited for Bobby to drop off the peanut butter. Bobby arrived five minutes later, iced up, and changed into human form as he entered the kitchen.

 

"That bad?" Bobby saw the dark circles under Scott's eyes. "It's only one more week."

 

"That's what I keep telling Remy. Thanks, Bobby." He took hold of the peanut butter and headed back to their bedroom.

 

Amused, Bobby realized Scott had forgotten about him. Smiling, he followed Scott until he was close enough to peek at Remy. "Wow..." Nine months pregnant, Remy's belly clearly showed beneath the comforter. "I'm glad I'm not in his shoes..." He let himself out and returned to the mansion, whistling and humming softly.

 

***

 

Scott sat down on the side of the bed, watching Remy sleep. Had Jean loved him as much as Remy did? It was unfair to compare them, but he couldn't help himself. He had been mad as hell when he had found out about Essex helping Remy to get pregnant, but once he had grown used to the idea, he started looking forward to having his own little family. It amazed him that Remy was willing to do this, to carry his child.

 

Remy stirred. The smell of food invaded his nostrils and his nose twitched. "Hum... peanut butta..."

 

Scott handed him the open jar. "Knock yourself out." Entranced, he watched Remy dip his fingers in the peanut butter jar, followed by another dip in the sticky marmalade and then the Cajun licked off his fingers. "Crackers?" He offered Remy some, and he promptly replaced his fingers with a cracker.

 

"You want some too?" Remy offered belatedly.

 

"No, I'm not hungry..." Scott slipped between the covers and Remy moved into his arms.

 

"Dis is nice." Remy licked the remnants of marmalade from his fingers and then placed the empty jars on the nightstand. "Must mean you love me."

 

Scott secretly prayed that Remy wasn't craving anything else. Whenever Remy craved something, he was the one who was sent on the errand to fetch it. Even if it meant going into town to get the goods. "Of course I love you, Remy."

 

Remy wiggled closer and rested his head on Scott's chest. "Dis bien, cher? Don' wanna squeeze de life outta you..."

 

Scott smiled, saddened. Remy was really worried about the weight he had gained. "No, it's just fine, Remy. You feel just fine, love."

 

Reassured, Remy's eyes closed. "'msleepycher..."

 

'That's okay, darling. You need sleep..."

 

Remy rubbed his face against Scott's naked chest and drifted off into sleep. Je t'aime...

 

Scott pressed another kiss onto Remy's locks. "I love you too, Remy."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sexy

 

"I can' even see my feet! I'm ugly! How can you still love me? You don' want me no more! I know you're lookin' for a new lover... You can' possibly want me no more!" Naked, Remy stood in front of the bathroom mirror and horrified, he stared at his belly. "Non... I'm ugly..."

 

Scott drew in a deep breath and was ready to reassure his lover again. Remy had mentioned feeling ugly a few times before, but he had never seemed this frustrated. "You're beautiful, love."

 

Remy firmly shook his head. "Look at me! I'm huge! I can' even... can' even..."

 

"What?" Scott approached his lover and came to a halt behind him. Slowly, lovingly, his hands caressed Remy's back. "What is it you can't?"

 

"Can' even have sex! We haven' had sex in... weeks!" Most of the time he felt too tired or even downright nauseous and he had been the one pushing Scott away, but he had conveniently forgotten that. "You don' touch me no more!" Sobbing softly, he tried to wipe away his tears before they dripped down his face.

 

Scott gently kissed the nape of Remy's neck. "I only want you, love."

 

"Prove it!" Remy turned around. It had been his intention to spin around, but the extra weight was slowing him down. He swayed on his feet and ended up in Scott's arms. "I'm fat... huge!"

 

Scott lifted Remy's chin until their eyes met. "You're carrying my child, Remy. That makes you even sexier."

 

"Sexier?" Remy laughed, bitterly. "I'm as sexy as... as..." At a loss, he gestured wildly at his mirror image. "Why aren' you carryin' de child? Why am I dis huge?"

 

"You went to see Essex, remember? You didn't even tell me." Scott stared deeply into his lover's eyes. His hands tangled in the long, soft locks and he leaned in closer to press a kiss on Remy's lips. "Want me to prove how sexy you are? Come to bed with me then."

 

Suddenly, Remy hesitated. Scott wasn't reacting according to plan. His lover should be long gone, not kissing him! "Cher?"

 

"I'd gladly carry you, but I can't take the risk, come on, Remy." He led his baffled lover to their bed and helped Remy lie down. "Let me love you?"

 

"Cher, I'm..."

 

"Yeah, you're huge... Now there's even more of you to love."

 

Those words shut Remy up. Looking up, he swallowed hard. "Would you wear de necklace for me? Wanna see your eyes... Wanna know I don't repulse you..."

 

"Oh, love..." Scott shook his head. But if that was what it took to convince Remy he would do it. He walked over to the closet and slipped the necklace over his head. After removing his visor, he returned to the bed. "Better?"

 

Breathlessly, Remy nodded his head. Scott's eyes were draped with desire and his thoughts echoed that passion. He chided himself. He was an empath and would be the first to know if Scott had stopped loving him. "Cher, sorry..." It seemed that lately, all he was doing was apologizing.

 

Scott lay down beside Remy, careful not to put any weight on his lover. "Just let me do the work, okay?" Remy relaxed as his hands explored the soft flesh. He even tickled his lover, and Remy's laughter flowed through the room.

 

"Ai, baby's kickin' 'gain." Hank had assured him that it was a sign that the baby was perfectly healthy, but he still worried.

 

Scott rested his hand on Remy's belly. "I can feel it." Locking eyes with Remy, he wondered how he could ever repay his lover for giving him this gift.

 

"Make love to me?" Remy wasn't sure making love was still possible. He would stop the moment he was hurting the baby, but he craved feeling Scott inside him. It had been weeks since they had last made love.

 

"Are you sure it's safe to do that?" Seeing Remy's disappointed expression, he sighed. Kissing his lover, he thought everything over. Maybe things would work out if Remy was on his side. "We're going to stop when you feel uncomfortable, okay, love?"

 

Remy nodded his head, excited that Scott wanted to make love to him. He felt damned unattractive and couldn't believe Scott wanted to be with him in that way. "Of course, cher..." Scott's fingers curled around his cock, which had grown hard at the mention of making love. "Can' even see my dick..."

 

"But I can," Scott teased, pumping slowly. Yes, Remy's belly made things difficult, but they could overcome these little problems. "Does it feel good?" He leaned in closer and licked the skin beneath Remy's collarbone while his other hand teased a nipple into hardness.

 

"Oui, cher..." Panting softly, Remy tried to raise his hips, eager to increase the stimulation, but Scott chided him.

 

"Don't. Let me do the work, okay? We had a deal..." Scott claimed his lover's lips, which parted invitingly. I missed this... Remy's mood swings were a force to be reckoned with and made the Cajun unpredictable.

 

Moaning softly, Remy lost himself in his lover's caresses. He needed this, needed it badly. "Inside me?" He would die if Scott refused him now. If he says non, he don' love me no more...

 

Scott caught that thought. Remy tried shielding his thoughts when he was feeling low, but his control wasn't as total as it had been before the pregnancy. "Yeah, I want to be inside you, Remy... and remember... I'll know when it hurts..."

 

"How do you wanna do dis?" It didn't matter that Scott had stopped pumping him. The prospect of feeling Scott inside him was enough to keep him rock hard.

 

The expression in Remy's eyes almost made him come. "Remy, what about on your side? Do you think that will work?"

 

"I'll try," Remy vowed passionately. "Uh, cher, you might need to roll me over t'ough..."

 

Scott felt the sudden unease in Remy's mind and interpret it correctly. "Hey, I'll love you always. It doesn't matter if we can't do this right now."

 

"It matters," Remy said, frustrated. With Scott's help, he rolled onto his left side. Scott spooned up behind him and he sighed blissfully, feeling his lover's cock between his ass cheeks. Wiggling closer, he enjoyed feeling Scott's skin against his. "Cher, are you gonna try?"

 

Scott was trying to push back any second thoughts he had about this. The link would tell him if Remy was in any pain and he would stop at once. "Remy," he whispered, licking his lover's back. "I want you so bad. You're sexy... I love your ass... Those round mounds fit perfectly in my hands..." To prove his point he rubbed his lover's buttocks. Remy purred and Scott smiled. You really want this...

 

Oh, oui... Remy pushed several pillows against his body and they cradled him perfectly. He was actually really comfortable like this and Scott would be doing most of the work. He could simply lie there and enjoy the ride.

 

Scott opened the drawer of their nightstand and uncovered the lube. "We're going slow, okay?"

 

Remy nodded against the pillows. "Oui." He purred contently as Scott's slippery finger massaged his guardian ring. "Missed dis, cher..." Feeling terribly relaxed, he easily accepted Scott's finger inside him. A luxurious purr escaped his throat as Scott rubbed his prostate. "Oui, cher... oui..."

 

Scott pulled back and added more lube. "Two?"

 

"Oui..." Although he was eager to feel Scott inside him, he forced himself to remain calm. Scott was right. They had to go slow, but he almost melted from ecstasy when Scott returned with two fingers, scissoring them and opening him. A jolt of lust swept through him as Scott touched his prostate again. "Cher... please, now... need you..."

 

Scott nodded his head. Remy was ready for him, but... We'll try, Remy. As long as the baby was okay with this, he was okay with this. He didn't know if Remy was able to deal with the pressure inside his body when he finally took his lover.

 

"Please, cher... need you..." He was begging and wiggled his ass closer. Suddenly the tip of Scott's cock pushed against the guardian ring and he sighed, relaxing, wanting this, needing this.

 

Scott had added extra lubrication to make sure he wasn't hurting his lover and was quite surprised when he easily slid inside the hot channel. Holding his breath, he focused on the link, but Remy didn't seem to be in any pain. Pure, undulated ecstasy slithered through the Cajun's mind.

 

Pressing closer to his lover, he started a slow and shallow rhythm, not wanting to penetrate Remy too deeply. "How's this, love?"

 

Remy groaned, hungrily. "Perfect, cher." He loved it when Scott took him hard, but this wasn't the time for hard and fast. This was about slow and passionate. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the friction inside him. Scott's lips brushed his neck and a wet tongue slithered toward his ear. Scott nibbled on his earlobe and Remy pushed back. "Mon Dieu..." Panting hard, his eyes widened, feeling Scott's fingers slip back around his cock. "Feels bien... so bien..."

 

Scott controlled his own urges and concentrated on making lazy love to Remy. It had been a long time since he had moved inside this hot channel and he wanted to take his lover hard, but the baby and Remy's comfort came first. In the past, Remy had loved hearing him proclaim his love, had actually gotten off of it.

 

Wickedly, Scott licked Remy's ear, nibbled on the sexy earlobe and whispered softly. "Remy, I love you... Your skin's so soft, your ass is perfect and oh, you're so tight... You're mine, you know that, do you? I want to make love to you forever."

 

"Cher!"

 

Remy climaxed and his lover's come dripped onto his fingers. "Yes, that's it, love... One more thrust, just one more and then... oh..." He froze, coming inside his lover's body. The hot channel contracted around him, milking him dry and he gently bit Remy, drawing a single droplet of blood. "Oh, Remy..."

 

Remy smiled smugly as Scott's climax swept through him. "Guess you still love me den..." For the moment, everything was right.

 

"Yeah, and I'll prove it again and again... It's a pleasure to prove it to you. I love you, Remy."

 

Remy moved closer to Scott and settled down in his lover's arms. He moaned at the loss as Scott pulled out. "Wish you could stay inside me."

 

"I don't think you'd be comfortable, Remy. And we have to consider the baby." He folded his arms around Remy, kissing and licking the sweaty skin. "Think you can sleep now?"

 

"Oui, mais I'm gettin' hungry."

 

Scott cringed. "No..." He was lying comfortable in bed with Remy in his arms. He didn't want to make the trip into the kitchen to find they didn't have the food Remy craved.

 

Remy smiled, receiving most of Scott's thoughts. "You gotta clean us up anyway. You made a mess."

 

"I made a mess?" Scott elbowed himself into a sitting position and saw the smug grin on Remy's face. "You made the mess!" But he was smiling himself. Remy was in a good mood and bantering would lift his lover's spirits even more. "Okay, I'll clean you up and... what do you want from the kitchen?"

 

Remy looked over his shoulder. "A pastrami sandwich with pickles?"

 

Scott shook his head in disbelief. "Pickles. Of course it has to be pickles. I guess that means I've got to wake up Bobby again..."

 

"Please, cher... I want pickles on my sandwich." Remy turned on the puppy dog look, the one that always got him what he wanted. It was so easy to wind Scott around his little finger.

 

Scott sighed. "I'll see what I can do."

 

"Now clean me up, cher. I'm all sticky!"

 

"One more week," Scott reminded himself. "One more week and this is over."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sleeping in the bathroom.

 

"Remy? Where are you?" His lover couldn't have gotten far, considering the extra weight he was carrying. Scott searched the first floor and then cocked his head, concentrating. Remy, love, where are you?

 

Huh?

 

Startled. Remy definitely sounded startled. Why? Worried, Scott honed in on his lover's thoughts and let them pull him in the correct direction. Suddenly, he realized that he was on his way to the bathroom. "Remy, are you in there?"

 

"Sorry, cher... Merde!"

 

Remy's tone made him hurry and he resolutely opened the bathroom door. "Hey, Remy, what's..." He chuckled softly, seeing Remy's predicament. "Don't tell me you fell asleep like that!" Remy was sitting on the toilet. His sweat pants dangled around his ankles and one hand supported his back, while the other was trying to rub his belly. Sleepy eyes met his and Scott shook his head. "Why didn't you call me? I could have helped you to get in to bed."

 

"Never realized what was happenin', cher," Remy apologized. "Mon Dieu, I gotta go 'gain!" He didn't bother getting up and stayed seated on the toilet. His belly was always in the way when he tried to aim for the porcelain bowl.

 

"Hank should arrive any moment now." Scott helped his lover to his feet, pulled up the sweats and flushed the toilet. "Wash your hands, darling."

 

Remy slowly washed his hands. "Can' believe I fell 'sleep in de bat'room, cher! Mebbe you should move a bed in here! I spend more time in here dan in de bedroom!" The fetus pressed down on his bladder and was sending him to the bathroom frequently. "I feel tired all de time..." Moving about while carrying the extra weight exhausted him.

 

"Only three more days, my heart, and then we'll have our little b... baby in our arms." Damn it! He’d almost given away the baby's gender! Remy had chosen not to know whether it was a boy or a girl, but Hank had told him at his own request. They were expecting a little baby boy! "Let me help you back to the bedroom."

 

Remy nodded, drained, and leaned heavily on Scott as his lover guided him to the bedroom. He frowned, finding McCoy already there and setting up his equipment to run another one of his tests. "Where's Nat'an?" After telling Scott about Essex's involvement, they had also told McCoy. They had decided that both McCoy and Nathan would monitor his pregnancy. To make things less stressful they had also decided that both men would be present at any examination, so that he didn't have to suffer through two separate exams.

 

Scott nodded his head, acknowledging Hank's presence. Hank smiled, and helped Scott lower Remy onto the bed. "This won't take long," Hank promised.

 

"I'm too not late, am I?" Nathan entered the bedroom, taking in his son's appearance, searching for any symptoms that would tell him that something was wrong with Remy, but his son looked just fine... for a nine months pregnant man.

 

"Let's get dis over wit'... I wanna go back to sleep and Scott, cher? Grilled cheese sandwiches sound perfect... I'm a bit hungry."

 

"You can't be hungry again!" Scott's mouth was agape, and he shook his head in disbelief. He had made pancakes only one hour ago and Remy had eaten them all, with sugar, maple syrup, marmalade, adding layer after layer to his pancakes!

 

"Please, cher... grilled cheese sandwiches... extra cheese, no crust... please, cher... Need dose sandwiches." Remy tried to sit upright, but McCoy and Nathan gently pushed him down. "Extra, extra cheese!"

 

Sighing, Scott gave in. Only three more days... and I wonder how many more times I will find him asleep in the bathroom!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Witnessing a miracle.

 

"Cher, I'm scared... I can' do dis! What if somet'in' goes wrong and I screw up? What if... what if..."

 

"Remy, sweetheart, calm down." Scott soothingly rubbed the knuckles of his lover's left hand. They were at Hank's lab and McCoy and Nathan were getting ready to perform the caesarian section. "We've got two doctors instead of one. They're the best. Just think about it! Only a few more minutes and you'll be holding our son..." Scott quickly covered his mouth with his right hand. "Shit! Can't believe I said that!" Remy was staring at him with big eyes. The Cajun looked vulnerable in the white medical gown, hooked up to several monitors and IV's.

 

"A boy? We're gonna have a baby boy? Mon Dieu! A li'l boy!" He should have been mad at Scott for giving his child's gender away, but he was so thrilled,- and high on medication!-, that he really didn't care. "A li'l boy... He needs a name, cher!" His placed his other hand protectively on his stomach. "He's kickin' 'gain!"

 

Scott's hand joined his lover's, eager to feel the movement. "We already decided on a name, love."

 

"You sure? I mean... You never met Benjamin and..."

 

"Remy, I'm okay with Benjamin, Benny. I think it's a good name." Hearing that Remy wanted to name the baby after a good friend that had died had surprised him, but once Remy had told him about Benjamin and Dave, he had understood why it was so important to Remy to remember them. He was about to reassure Remy again, when Hank and Nathan joined them.

 

"Scott? You should leave now..." Hank eyed his friend, uncertain if Scott would follow his advice. They had discussed this earlier and Scott had agreed to leave, but...

 

"No way, I'm staying!" Scott ignored Remy's shocked expression. "Talk me through it." They had told him everything in detail, but he needed to hear it again!

 

Worried, Hank exchanged a look with Nathan. At first, he had found it hard to trust the former villain, but Nathan had proven himself to be trustworthy. "I'd still prefer it if you'd let me put you under an anesthetic, Remy." He wasn't sure how well Remy would handle the surgery.

 

"Non, I wanna be conscious when Benny's born!" Remy firmly shook his head and grabbed Scott's hand.

 

Nathan acted at once. "You will be conscious when Benny's born," he assured Remy. My grandson will be born within a few minutes! And I even like the name... Benjamin...

 

The spinal anesthesia had taken effect, making the lower half Remy's body numb. "I want you to drink this, Remy." Hank helped Remy swallow the antacid, which would reduce the level of acid in his stomach and prevent vomiting, while Nathan washed Remy's belly with an antibacterial solution. Seeing Scott's rising panic, he locked eyes with his friend. "Remy's in the best hands, Scott."

 

"I know that," Scott said, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. "Remy, look at me... I'll stay the entire time... Just look at me."

 

Remy's big eyes locked with his lover's. Preferring telepathic speech at this point, he focused his thoughts. Cher, please don' leave me... I ain' sure I can do dis.

 

You're going to be just fine. Scott gently caressed Remy's hand. "Just hold on a little longer, sweetheart."

 

"I'm making the incision," Hank announced, deciding on a transverse incision. "This part will only take a few minutes."

 

Nathan reached out empathically, reassuring his son and making sure that Remy wasn't in pain. I can see the baby, Remy...

 

Mon Dieu! Remy squeezed Scott's hand hard. He wasn't in any pain, but the nervousness and fear were getting to him. Nathan had assured him that the baby was healthy after evaluating several ultrasounds, but he needed to hold Benny in his arms in order to believe that. Cher, what's happenin'? He closed his eyes, but they flashed open again, hearing Benny cry out, as he left the warm shelter of his body. "Cher? Is he okay?"

 

Hank handed Scott a pair of scissors. "I take you want to cut the umbilical cord?"

 

Scott's hand trembled as he cut the umbilical cord and he tried to control his nerves. Benny was covered in blood and Hank quickly handed the baby to Nathan who checked the baby's reflexes and began to clean him up. "Benny looks okay, Remy. He's crying, can't you hear him?" Concerned, he locked eyes with Remy, but the expression in them reassured him. Remy was coping.

 

"Oui, I hear him, cher..." Remy's head lolled to the right and his eyes closed.

 

"Scott, he's merely tired..." Hank had seen the panicked expression in his friend's eyes.

 

Realizing he had scared his lover, Remy opened his eyes and weakly nodded his head. "I'm bien, cher..."

 

Hank removed the placenta and closed the incision. Working calmly, he closed the abdomen and sutured the skin. "These will dissolve in time, Remy, so you won't need another operation."

 

Nathan had cleaned Benny up and wrapped the baby, who had gone strangely quiet, in a warm blanket. "Remy? Meet Benny." Gently, he placed the baby in Remy's arms.

 

Scott moved quickly and helped Remy hold the baby; his lover lacked the strength to cradle Benny against his chest. "He's beautiful, Remy."

 

"Cher... count his toes and fingers?" Entranced, Remy stared at the big black on red eyes. "Mon Dieu, look at his eyes!"

 

"They're stunning," Scott whispered, pleased, while indulging Remy and counting the baby's toes and fingers. "He's got ten fingers and ten toes, Remy. Just perfect." Holding his breath, he stared at Benny's tiny hands, which tried to grab his. Giving in, he let Benny's fingers curl around his thumb. "Just perfect, my heart."

 

Remy smiled tiredly. "He's wort' it, you know, cher... All de mood swings... de mornin' sickness..."

 

"Don't forget the food cravings," Scott teased, delighted, when Remy gestured him to take hold of the baby. He reacted at once, lifted Benny and sighed, feeling the tiny, warm body rest against his chest.

 

Hank and Nathan checked Remy's vital signs, but tried to give the couple the privacy they craved. Exchanging pleased smiles, Nathan nodded his head. My grandson... Later, once Remy had rested, he would spend some time with his family, trying to build some sort of relationship with his grandson. "You did well, Remy. You can rest now."

 

Remy's smile grew even more pleased, feeling Nathan's affection for him and Benny. I'm glad I found out you're my fat'er...

 

"Remy, Nathan's right. You should rest now. Don't worry about Benny. I won't let him out of my sight!" Scott promised passionately. His words reassured Remy, who finally closed his eyes. "I love you, Remy LeBeau."

 

Je t'aime, cher... Remy felt Benny's presence clearly in his mind and it convinced him that he wouldn't lose contact with his son should he go to sleep. Benny was close... Scott was close... Life was good.

 

Scott supported Benny's head and pressed a tender kiss on his son's brow. "You've got the best dad you could wish for, Benny. Remy's going to protect you, love you... even spoil you if I don't stop him." He felt truly humbled as he looked into the black on red eyes. "I'll always love you too, Benny..." Rocking his son in his arms, he looked at his lover, who was finally peacefully asleep. "Thank you, Remy. Thank you for Benny."

 

Curiously, Benny tried to focus his eyes. Waves of love and affection swept through him and feeling cherished, he rested his head against a strong shoulder. He closed his eyes and sped toward the mind that had kept him company these last few months.

 

Oui, petit, you're safe here... Je t'aime...

 

Although Benny didn't understand the words, the love spoke for itself and he let himself be drawn near.

 

Remy smiled in his sleep, cradling Benny's presence in his mind. Scott... Benny... I finally know de meanin' of love... Je t'aime...

 

The End

May 2002


End file.
